


Daddy Loves You

by PrettyKitty93



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Death, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Sex, F/M, Fluff, Loss, Loss of Control, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Own Original Character, Parentlock, Romance, Sexual Content, Sibling Rivalry, power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is an army doctor and married to his childhood sweetheart Mary who is finally expecting a baby after five years of trying. But after getting shot in Afghanistan, John is invalided home and it’s almost like fate as just two days later, Mary is taken to hospital to give birth to their baby.<br/>But what will happen when tragedy strikes?<br/>A chance encounter with the mysterious Sherlock Holmes could be the start of something amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We're Having A Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Father Too Close](https://archiveofourown.org/works/806248) by [onlyashesremain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyashesremain/pseuds/onlyashesremain). 



> Believe it or not, I came up with this idea while I was having a shower. I’ve been trying not to start any new fanfics until I finish all my others but after coming up with this idea, I just had to write it. It was inspired by  
> onlyashesremain with this fic http://archiveofourown.org/works/806248/chapters/1521116
> 
> P.S Due to a sudden thought of alternative baby names, I've decided to change Harriet's name to Ariana. her nickname is Ana.
> 
> Update: Just for those who don't know, this is a companion piece to An Unlikely Romance xxxx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Watson and Mary are finally having a baby and John's very excited about it.  
> But unfortunately, tragedy strikes and it leaves John reeling.

“Oh my God, Mary, can you believe it? We’re having a baby!” John says excitedly as his wife is loaded into the ambulance.

Unfortunately, at this moment in time, Mary isn’t sharing in John’s excitement. She’s in too much pain from contractions but she gives him a weak smile anyway.

“I know … sweetheart. I know.” She replies softly and breathlessly.

“Shall I ring Emily?”

“At the … hospital, John. We’ll call her … then.”

“Yes, of course. This is going to be fantastic. A little Mary Watson running around.”

“Yes, John.” Mary smiles softly, despite the pain she’s in.

She can see her husband’s eyes sparkling and it sends a warmth over her that seems to calm her for a few moments.

“We’re nearly at the hospital now, Mr and Mrs Watson.”

“Hear that, Mary? We’re nearly there. I love you so much, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see our beautiful baby girl.” He smiles at her and grabs her hand.

The ambulance pulls up and the paramedics wheel the stretcher out, dragging it inside the hospital.

John is still holding his wife’s hand and grinning like a mad man.

“Doctor Watson, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here.” A doctor suddenly says, stopping John in his tracks.

“Why, what’s wrong?” John replies in a worried tone.

“Your wife’s heart rate is too high and we’re worried about the effect it might have on the baby. We’ll have to give her a Caesarean Section in order to reduce stress on both mother and baby.”

“But they’ll be okay, right?”

“We’ll do everything we can, Doctor Watson.”

“Okay, thank you, doctor.”

The doctor nods in reply before heading off to the surgery.

An agonising two hours later and finally the doctor returns. John notices that he’s wearing a solemn expression and John knows that their beautiful baby is dead.

“Doctor, what’s happened?”

“We did all we could, Doctor Watson but I’m afraid I have some bad news. During the procedure, Mary went into cardiac arrest and we did everything we could but I’m sorry, we lost her.”

“And the baby?” John asks, which surprises himself.

“Nurse.” The doctor calls and she brings the little baby through the doors.

“Here she is, Doctor Watson. A beautiful and healthy little girl. I’m … very sorry for your loss.” She smiles sadly, handing the baby over to John.

“Thank you, nurse. And, um, doctor, tell your staff … thank you … for trying to save my wife.” John replies, staring at his little girl.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more, Doctor Watson.” The doctor replies, touching John’s shoulder gently before walking off with the nurse.

John stares at his baby, her little hands clutching his finger and blue eyes sparkling.

“Hey, you. I’m your daddy. Listen, mummy … mummy has … gone. So it’s just us. But mummy loves you. She would … would have been so happy. I love you too … my little angel.” John tells the baby, tears streaming down his face and his voice breaking.

He stands up and heads for the exit, clutching the little girl like he’s afraid he’ll lose her. 


	2. Coping With Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two weeks since Mary's death and John is still struggling to bond with little Harriet.  
> He decides to meet up with an old friend to get some advice.

** Two Weeks Later. **

“Hey, John. I heard about Mary. I’m sorry, mate.” David, one of John’s old rugby pals says solemnly.

“Thanks, mate. Um, the funeral is on Friday, can you make it?”

“Yeah, of course, mate. I’ll be there. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll bring Sophie and the girls too.”

“Thanks, Dave. I could really do with my friends now.”

“So what about the house then? I heard that you’re selling up.”

“Yeah, I am. I can’t stand the quiet anymore, it’s deafening. Everything there reminds me of Mary and it’s just … too much.” John replies, tears spilling from his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m being a dick.”

“Na, mate. You lost your wife on a day that was supposed to be amazing. It’s understandable. I’d be in pieces if it had been my Soph. This is normal. And it’s best to get it out, mate.” Dave replies, throwing an arm around John’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Dave. I appreciate it.” John smiles sadly, wiping away the tears.

“No worries, Johnny. So where is the little’un then?”

“Ariana’s with my mum. I had to get away from her. She reminds me too much of Mary. I couldn’t look at her … I’m a terrible father, aren’t I?”

“No, you ain’t, Johnny. You’re still trying to deal with what’s happened. Sophie says that PTSD is very common when someone’s experienced a traumatic event. I mean, this ain’t like in Afghanistan obviously, but it’s still traumatic for those involved. A lot of people get over it eventually, some people never do though; they just deal with it. As long as you don’t become a psycho then it’s all good.” Dave says and smiles at the last sentence.

“Yeah, I think I’m good on the psycho front there, Dave.”

“Alright then. But be warned, if bodies start turning up with injuries that could only have been done by an army doctor, I’ll have to call police, mate.” Dave smiles.

“Ha, okay then, Dave. Anyway, I better get off. I’ll see ya Friday, yeah.”

“No worries, mate.”

John waves his friend goodbye before leaving the pub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m not one for really short chapters. I ramble on for ages and ages but surprisingly, here I am writing short chapters. They’ll probably get longer later on. These are like the introductory chapters. Chapter three may be longer, just depending how where it goes.


	3. The Funeral And The Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of Mary's funeral and obviously John's emotions are running high.  
> And a meeting with a mysterious young man only adds to the list of John's emotions; confusion and bewilderment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I warned you, this is gonna be angsty. Sorry out about that but it is a funeral after all xxxx

John looks at himself in the mirror, the black suit reflecting his depression and loss; he can’t yet get to grips with the fact that he’s burying his wife at such a young age.

 _Oh God, Ariana. She’s lost her mother and she doesn’t even know it._ John thinks before looking at the baby sleeping in her cot.

“Ariana, I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something. I wish there was a way to bring her back. I’m sorry I won’t be good enough for you.” John tells the sleeping form of his daughter, gently picking her up and rocking her.

“John? Um, are you ready, mate?” Dave asks awkwardly, standing in the doorway to the near bare bedroom.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” John replies solemnly, holding his daughter closer.

“It’ll be alright, mate. Me and Soph will help you with little Ana. And besides, you know it’s what Mary would have wanted. She would have given her life for that little-un and ya know it. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Dave says reassuringly.

“I know. I just wish she could have seen Harry. She would have been so happy.”

“I know, mate. Oh, I invited Mike Stamford. I hope you don’t mind. I just thought when you said that you need your friends, well why not Mike.”

“Thanks, Dave. You’re a good mate.” John replies, a sort of smile forming.

“She’s a looker, that one. Got her mam’s good looks and thankfully she ain’t got your big ears.” Dave jokes, trying to change the subject.

“Hey, you cheeky swine!” John smiles, nudging his friend slightly. “But yeah she is. She’d gonna be a heartbreaker when she’s older.”

“I’m joking though. She’s got your eyes. And your ears ain’t that big, mate. Let’s just hope she ain’t a hobbit like you.” Dave grins.

“Just when I thought you were being nice.”

“Johnny, I’m your best mate. I’m supposed to terrorize you. It’s my duty.”

“Oh, it is now, is it? In that case, you’ve got big whopper ears too, mate.” John grins.

“Oi!” Dave grins wider, nudging John in the shoulder.

“Watch the baby, mate.”

“Sorry, want me carry her for a bit?”

“No, it’s fine. She’s helping me now.” John replies, stroking Ana’s face affectionately.

“I’m glad, mate.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Car’s here.” Dave replies, opening the door for John.

“Cheers, mate.” John smiles, climbing into the car and shuffling over so Dave can get in too.

x..x

The car pulls up outside the church and John takes a deep breath before he finally climbs out the car.

There’s around sixty of John and Mary’s friends and family; even Harriet has managed to stay sober enough to ensure she doesn’t embarrass herself at such an occasion.

Mike walks over to John as soon as he’s out of the car.

“John, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, Mike. And thanks for being here.” John replies, shaking Mike’s hand. “So you still at Bart’s?”

“Teaching now, yeah. Bright young things like we used to be. God I hate them. I heard you’re selling up?”

“Yeah, I can't afford it now on an army pension _and_ it reminds me too much of Mary.”

“You could get a flat share or something.”

“C'mon. Who'd want me for a flatmate?” John asks, giving a weak laugh.

“Mm.” Mike replies, giving a sort of smile.

“What?” John asks curiously.

“Well you're the second person to say that to me today.”

“Who's the first?”

“I’ll explain later.”

x..x

“Mary was a wonderful, beautiful, brill … brilliant woman. And she … she would have been an amazing … mother.” John’s voice breaks as he tries to say his speech about his wife.

Dave is about to stand but Mike grabs his arm and shakes his head slightly. “He has to do this, Dave.”

Dave looks to his broken friend at the podium before nodding in agreement and settling back into his seat.

“I loved her … from the moment I met her. And I will always … love her. And I will try and raise our daughter … the best that I can … without _her_. Goodbye, Mary, my love.” John finishes, gently touching the coffin before walking back to his seat.

The music starts and the coffin is carried out to the graveyard by Mike, Dave, Mary’s step brother Tony and a couple of John’s rugby friends.

“In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our  _sister_  Mary Morstan; and we commit  _her_  body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless  _her_  and keep  _her_ , the Lord make his face to shine upon  _her_  and be gracious unto  _her_ , the Lord lift up his countenance upon  _her_  and give  _her_ peace.  _Amen_ _._ _”_

One by one family and friends throw roses onto the coffin until its John’s turn; he stands there for a moment, just staring at the coffin in which is wife’s body is laid to rest and he takes a deep breath before finally throwing the rose on top.

x..x

The wake is a bit more lively but John is hiding away in the corner, content to stare at his little girl for eternity if it was possible and eventually Mike comes over with a young man.

“This is gonna be interesting.” John whispers to his daughter, who, surprisingly, smiles in response.

John stands up to greet Mike and the mysterious young man, placing his daughter into the carrier that Dave has given him.

As he holds a hand out to shake Mike’s hand, the stranger speaks, “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

 _“_ Sorry?”

“Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you—" _  
_

“How do you feel about the violin?”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”

“Are you—? You told him about me?”

 **“** Not a word.”

“Then who said anything about flatmates?” John asks, looking between the stranger and Mike.

“I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. And just now he asked me to meet you. He knows I’m not the type for giving sympathies, in fact, most commonly; I don’t like to talk to _anyone_. So clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan and just lost your wife too, so you’re selling up. Wasn't a difficult leap.” The man replies with a smile.

“How did you know about Afghanistan?”

“I've got my eye on a nice little place in Central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it. We meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash.”

“Is that it?”

“Is that what?”

“We've only just met and we're going to go look at a flat.”

“Problem?”

“We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name. And I have a baby to consider.” John replies, looking at his daughter asleep in the carrier.

“I know you were an army doctor and were invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him—possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. And I know you’re worried you’re going to fail your daughter, trust me, you won’t. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon.” Sherlock smiles before heading for the door.

“Is he …” John starts to ask but Mike interrupts him.

“Yeah. He's always like that.” He replies with a smile.

John quirks an eyebrow and actually feels a smile tug on his lips.

“I must be mad. I’m _actually_ considering taking him up on the offer.”

“Good luck, John.” Mikes pats his shoulder before walking away.

John shakes his head and allows a little giggle to escape him.

“Bloody mad indeed.” He says to himself.


	4. 221B Baker Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John moves into 221B Baker Street with Sherlock and has an interesting case that leads to an awkward dinner which subsequently leads to John shooting the murderer after Sherlock risks his own life.  
> But a few hours later, John discovers there may be more to Sherlock than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s a slight adjustment to A Study In Pink. I've also skipped parts as we've all seen Sherlock so there’s no need for me to write about every single thing. Hope you like it xxxxx

“Hello.”

“Ah, Mr Holmes.”

“Sherlock, please. You walked here with …” Sherlock asks, pointing at John’s cane and then to the baby carrier on John’s right arm.

“Yes, I did. Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive.”  John replies, immediately changing the subject.

Sherlock watches John for a second before replying.

“Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's given me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.

“Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?” John asks surprised.

“Oh, no, I ensured it.” Sherlock smiles, walking to the front door.

“Sherlock!” A lovely woman greets with a smile and a hug.

“Mrs Hudson, Dr John Watson. And a … baby.”

John gives Sherlock a look of confusion over the younger man’s use of the word _baby_.

“Hello. Come in.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we ...?”

“Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed.”

“Yes. Yes, I think so, my thoughts precisely. So I went straight ahead and moved in.” “Soon as we get this rubbish cleaned up.” The two men say at the same time and John gives Sherlock a puzzled look before continuing.

 “So this is all ...”

“Well, obviously I can straighten things up a bit.”

“Yeah, that would be a good idea considering the baby.”

Sherlock nods in agreement, walking over to the mantelpiece.

“That's a skull.” John says suddenly, looking back at Sherlock.

“Friend of mine. When I say friend ...”

“What do you think, then, Dr Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms.” Mrs Hudson says with a wink.

“Of course we'll be needing two.” John replies, indicating to Ariana who is still asleep in her carrier.

“Oh, yes, of course.” Mrs Hudson replies, blushing a little before leaving the room.

“I looked you up on the internet last night.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Found your website. The Science Of Deduction.”

“What did you think?”

“You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?”

“Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone.”

“How?” John asks, curious to know if what the young man is saying is actually true.

“What about these suicides, then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same. “ Mrs Hudson re-enters the room, handing  a bottle of milk to John.

“Four. There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time.”

“Thank you.” John replies, picking up Ariana and gently placing the bottle to her mouth.

“A fourth?”

“Where?” Sherlock asks the Inspector, hearing his arrival up the stairs.

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.” The Inspector replies immediately, not taking the slightest notice of John or the baby in his arms.

“What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me otherwise something different. “

“You know how they never leave notes?”

“Yeah.”

“This one did. Will you come?”

“Who's on forensics?”

“Anderson.”

“Anderson doesn't work well with me.”

“Well, he won't be your assistant. “

“I need an assistant.” Sherlock growls, finally turning to look at the Inspector.

“Will you come?” The Inspector asks with a resigned sigh.

“Not in a police car, I'll be right behind.”

 “Thank you.” The Inspector immediately leaves, still having not noticed John.

“Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food.”

“I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper.” Mrs Hudson calls from the kitchen.

“Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!” Sherlock exclaims as he runs down the stairs.

“Look at him, dashing about ... My husband was just the same. But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell. I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg.” Mrs Hudson says affectionately.

“Damn my leg! Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ...” John exclaims before cutting off to prevent from scaring Ariana.

“I understand, dear, I've got a hip.”

“Cup of tea'd be lovely. Thank you.”

“Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper.”

“Couple of biscuits too, if you've got them.” John chuckles softly.

“Not your housekeeper!”

John smiles and settles into his seat, watching his daughter drift off to sleep again.

“You're a doctor. In fact, you're an Army doctor.” Sherlock’s voice breaks the silence in the living room as he re-enters.

“Yes.” John replies, immediately at attention.

“Any good?” Sherlock asks, as he slips on his gloves.

“Very good.”

John gently places Ariana back in her carrier and stands up straight.

“Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths.”

“Well, yes.”

“Bit of trouble too, I bet?”

“Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much.”

“Want to see some more?”

“Oh, God, yes.” John smiles, following Sherlock as he heads for the stairs. “Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out.”

“Both of you?”

“Impossible suicides? Four of them? Not point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!”

“Look at you, all happy. It's not decent.” Mrs Hudson admonishes, as Sherlock hugs her goodbye.

“Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!”

“Can you take care of Ana for me, please?” John asks as Sherlock runs out of the door.

“Of course I can. I love children. Go on now.”

“Thank You, Mrs Hudson.” John replies, running out the door after Sherlock.

“Taxi.” The younger man calls, hailing the cab down and opening the door for John.

x..x

“Okay, you’ve got questions.” Sherlock breaks the silence that has fell over the taxi.

“Yeah, where are we going?”

“Crime scene, obviously. Next?”

“Who are you? What do you do?” John asks, staring at the young man.

“What do you think?”

“I’d say private detective …” John replies unsurely, seeing if Sherlock will give any clue.

“But?”

“But the police don’t go to private detective.”

“I’m a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job.” Sherlock replies, still staring out the window.

“What does that mean?”

“It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me.”

“The police don’t consult amateurs.” John replies.  
  
“When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, “Afghanistan or Iraq?” You looked surprised.”

“Yes, how  _did_  you know?”

“I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart’s, so Army doctor – obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You’ve been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp’s really bad when you walk but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand, like you’ve forgotten about it, so it’s at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq.”

“You said I had a therapist.”

“You’ve got a psychosomatic limp – of  _course_  you’ve got a therapist. Then there’s your brother.”

“Hmm?”

Sherlock takes John’s phone from him and begins examining it.

“Your phone. It’s expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you’re looking for a flatshare – you wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift, then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it’s had a previous owner. Next bit’s easy. You know it already.

“The engraving.” John replies with a slight smile.  
  
“Harry Watson: clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget.  _Could_  be a cousin, but you’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model’s only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he’s just given it away. If she’d left  _him_ , he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left  _her_. He gave the phone to  _you_ : that says he wants you to stay in touch. You’re looking for cheap accommodation, but you’re not going to your brother for help: that says you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you  _don’t_  like his drinking.”

“How can you  _possibly_  know about the drinking?” John asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone; never see a drunk’s without them.” Sherlock replies with a smile before handing the phone back to John.

“What about my thoughts on my daughter?” 

“At your wife’s funeral you were looking at her with a solemn expression. That could be explained by the loss of your wife but no, it was more than that. The sadness was in your eyes too. And, you hold her as though someone might take her away, which says that you’re afraid someone thinks you’re a bad father and so do you.”

John falls silent and its Sherlock who breaks the silence again.

 _“_ There you go, you see – you were right.”

“ _I_  was right? Right about what?”

“The police don’t consult amateurs.”

“That ... was amazing.” John smiles and lets a little chuckle escape.

“Do you think so?” Sherlock asks, giving John a surprised look

“Of  _course_  it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary.

“That’s not what people normally say.

“What do people normally say?” John asks, still chuckling.

“Piss off!”

The two are silent for a moment before they burst into a fit of laughter.

x..x

After the crime scene, Sherlock takes John to the restaurant so that John can have something to eat.

“People don’t _have_ arch-enemies.” John says suddenly.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock asks, staring out of the window.

“In real life. There  _are_  no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn’t happen.”

“Doesn’t it? Sounds a bit dull.”

“So who did I meet?”

“What do real people have, then, in their ‘real lives’?”

“Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don’t like... Girlfriends, boyfriends...”

“Yes, well, as I was saying – dull.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend, then?”

“Girlfriend? No, not really my area.”

“Mm.” John nods in agreement as he continues to eat his food.

And then suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Oh, right. D’you have a boyfriend?”

“Which is fine, by the way.”

“I  _know_  it’s fine.”

“So you’ve got a boyfriend then?” John asks, looking up at the man from the corner of his eye.

“No."

“Right. Okay. Not with anyone.” John replies with a slight smile and then it falters, “Like me.”

“John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I’m flattered by your interest, I’m really not looking for any ...”

“No. No, I’m not asking. No. I’ve just lost my wife.” John interrupts, an almost bitter edge in his tone.

“Good.” Sherlock replies, looking back out the window again.

x..x

“Listen, about before.”

John finally breaks the awkward silence that has fell over the flat since their return from the university and the incident with the cabbie. “You should know, I wasn’t asking you out. I … um … thought that as we’re going to be living together that we should know … things about each other. Like I said, I’ve just lost my wife and it’s not like I can get over that in a few hours.”

“Not an issue, John. Think nothing more of it.”

“Good. Well, I’m just going to take Ariana to bed. I can come back if you like.” John says awkwardly.

“Don’t feel that you need to keep me company, John. You can go to bed, I’ll be quite alright.”

“No, I meant … never mind. Night, Sherlock.” John replies, picking Harriet up and heading to his bedroom.

“He’s a bloody weird one, that one, isn’t he, Ana?” He asks the little girl as he lays her on the bed. “Oh well, it’s better than being in that big house all on our own, isn’t it?” He chuckles to himself and curls up with his daughter in his arms.

About an hour later, John falls asleep still holding Ariana in his arms as Sherlock decides to check in on the doctor. Usually, he wouldn’t care for anyone else but for some reason, John Watson intrigues the young detective.

Sherlock watches the doctor with his daughter and wonders what a love like that must be like. Just as Sherlock’s watching John, he sees the little girl start to roll out of John’s arms and knows that she will probably hit the floor. He moves from the door to the bed in four big steps and catches Ariana in his arms, handling her as carefully as he would any of his experiments. He gives her a gently rock and her eyes start to flutter shut again.

Just as Ariana falls back to sleep, John’s eyes start to flutter open and he makes a soft groan before blinking rapidly and looking at the figure crouched next to his bed.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes, sorry, John. I was coming to … see if … the baby needed anything and she started rolling out of your arms so I … caught her.” Sherlock replies awkwardly, holding Ariana out for John.

John’s eyes go wide and he grabs hold of Ariana, trying to see if there are any bruises or cuts.

“Thank you, Sherlock. That was really _nice_ of you.” He replies, finally looking at Sherlock properly and giving him a smile.

“Yes, well. Nothing to worry about … night, John.” Sherlock replies, hurrying out of the room.

“Night, Sherlock.” John smiles, getting up to place his daughter back in her cot.


	5. Life With Sherlock Holmes

Two weeks pass and neither man mentions the events of their first night together, until today that is.

“Sherlock, that night after the Study In Pink case, why did you come to check on Ariana?” John asks suddenly, placing his cup of tea down on the desk.

“After the _what_ case?” Sherlock asks with a hint of distaste, but doesn’t open his eyes or move from his lying position on the couch.

“The Study In Pink, that’s what I called it. For the blog.”

“Ah, yes. The _blog_.”

“Sherlock. Stop avoiding the question.”

“Well, I … I just thought that … isn’t that what normal people do?”

“Not if it’s not their child, it isn’t.”

“Oh.” Sherlock replies, finally opening his eyes.

“You weren’t coming to check on Ariana, were you?” John asks, a smile forming on his lips.

“Of course I was, John. Surely you don’t think I’d check on _you_ , do you? You’re a grown man, I know you can take care of yourself.” Sherlock says, staring at the ceiling.

“Alright then.” John replies with a smile.

“Why are you smiling?” Sherlock asks, sitting bolt upright.

“No reason.” John replies, now grinning.

“Stop it.”

“Nope.” John smirks into his cup of tea.

“John, that is rather annoying.” Sherlock replies, a frown forming on his face.

“It’s fine, Sherlock. It was a nice thing.” John replies, finally looking at Sherlock and giving him a soft smile.

“How boring.” Sherlock drawls, flopping back into a lying position on the couch.

“You _really_ don’t understand how caring works, do you?”

“Caring is not an advantage, John. Do not mistake me for someone you _cares_.” Sherlock replies, spitting out the last word like venom.

“Of course, the famous rule for the Holmes’. I _almost_ forgot.” John remarks, an edge to his tone.

“I’m sorry if I led you to believe anything different.” Sherlock says, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Yes, God forbid, _Sherlock Holmes_ may care for something _other_ than himself.” John responds bitterly, putting his cup down and getting up to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asks softly, looking up at John over the arm of the couch.

 _God forbid he actually looks cute doing it._ John thinks before mentally shaking himself and replying, “Going to feed my _daughter_ , if I’m finished babysitting you.”

John storms off as Sherlock replies, “I’m not a _child_ , John.”

“Of course you aren’t, Sherlock.” Comes John’s response as he shuts the bedroom door.

Sherlock huffs and throws his arm back over his eyes again.

x..x

“I think I’m going to murder him in his sleep, Ana.” John says to his daughter, who giggles in response. “Honestly, I am. He’s so insufferable and a _complete_ pain in the arse.”

He picks his daughter up and begins pacing the room with her in his arms, carrying on the conversation.

“I feel like I have two children, not one. And he’s so dramatic. It’s like live theatre being around him. The flailing coat and the _throwing_ himself on the couch like some damsel in distress. You’re just lucky you don’t have to spend time with him. I mean, sure, the cases are great. I love them. Well, the excitement and being needed but _he_ is just a little too dramatic about everything. The way his eyes sparkle and his face lights up when he’s finally figured something out though, it’s … it’s beautiful. God, what am I saying, Ana? Listen to your daddy going on like a mad man, eh. Maybe his madness is contagious.” He continues on, smiling at his daughter, who just smiles or giggles in response.

“You do realise that the child can’t understand a word you’re saying, right?” Sherlock interrupts, standing at the door.

“Jesus, Sherlock. Learn to knock. And besides, it’s good for her. Soothing, in fact.” John replies, stopping pacing and glaring at Sherlock.

“Of course.” Sherlock scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“How much of that did you hear, anyway?”

“Enough.”

“And what’s _enough_?”

“Let’s just say I got here when you were mid pace. So, _enough_.” Sherlock replies with a smile, walking back to the living room.

“Sherlock! This conversation isn’t over, ya know.” John shouts after the retreating man, following him back to the living room.

“I know it’s not. But why don’t we leave it anyway.” Sherlock says calmly, sitting at the desk.

“No, I want to know what you heard.” John replies, shifting Ariana so she’s on his shoulder.

“I told you …”

“No, you said you heard what I said mid pace. I don’t even know what that is.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Sherlock replies, receiving a glare from John. “Don’t be like that, practically everyone is.”

John just sighs and walks to the kitchen, intent on making his daughter her morning feed.

After a few moments he struggles to juggle both Ariana and the ingredients for the milk.

“Sherlock, can you hold Ana for me while I make her a bottle, please?” John shouts into the living room and after hearing Sherlock’s response of “boring”, is about to consider another option but Sherlock enters the room anyway and holds his hands out for the baby.

“You are _not_ holding my daughter like that.” John replies, gesturing with his eyes at Sherlock’s outstretched arms. “Here. Put your arms like this …” John adds, moving into Sherlock’s personal space and trying to shift Sherlock’s arms into a cradle-like position. “Now, you need to support her head so, put your hand here and then this arm here and … there, you’re holding a baby.”

John moves back out of Sherlock’s personal space and smiles.

Sherlock, for all his genius, looks confused and awkward but that doesn’t stop John turning his back on him and starting to make up Ariana’s bottle.

“How can this be a safe position?” Sherlock asks, staring at the baby in his arms.

John doesn’t turn around but replies, “Because you’re supporting her head and at this stage of her life, her spine isn’t as strong as ours so she needs the extra support.”

Ariana, who had begun falling back to sleep during John’s pacing, suddenly wakes up and upon seeing a man who isn’t her father, begins to wail loudly.

“John, what do I do? She’s wailing. John!” Sherlock asks, trying to hand her back.

“Stop screaming for starters, Sherlock. And just rock her gently, I’m nearly finished.”

Sherlock does as he’s told; moving the baby into his arms properly and gently rocking her, while pacing the living room.

“John, she’s still crying. It’s not working.”

“It doesn’t work in milliseconds, Sherlock. It takes a couple of minutes.”

So Sherlock continues to rock the little girl and begins talking to her, “Hello, Ariana. I’m Sherlock. Can you say Sherlock? Don’t worry, daddy’s in the kitchen making you breakfast. He loves you, you see. Daddy. Daddy loves you, very much. And that’s why he puts up with your screaming …”

John is about to chide Sherlock for talking to his daughter like that but as he turns around, the words vanish, leaving a little glimmer of pride for the young man. Because despite his words, Sherlock is speaking in a soft voice and giving the child such a … an almost _caring_ expression that John can’t think to tell him off now.

“… and you’re very lucky, Ana. Because daddy has to take care of you all by himself but he won’t complain because he’s your daddy and that’s what he’s supposed to do. And your daddy isn’t an alcoholic, abusive man. Not like mine was, which makes you very lucky indeed.” Sherlock continues on, oblivious to John staring at him from the kitchen door until he suddenly speaks.

“Careful. Start acting like that and the whole world might go to hell. Can’t have Sherlock Holmes being all nice and sweet to a baby now, can we?” John replies, a smile gracing his features.

Sherlock considers his words for a moment and is about to make a snide remark back, when he sees John’s face. A smile that he had only seen maybe, twice, since they’d been living together.

Despite himself, he smiles back, still gently rocking little Ariana.

“Oh, sorry. Here.” Sherlock replies, walking back over to John and holding Ana out for him.

“You can feed her if you want.” John suggests and he doesn’t know why, it’s not like _he_ is Ana’s dad and they’re raising a child together. “If you want, that is?”

And surprisingly to both men, Sherlock asks, “How?”

“Um, here. Sit down here and then just hold the bottle up like this and just make sure she doesn’t swallow any air.” John replies, handing Sherlock the bottle and positioning it properly.

“Well, this is quaint.” A voice suddenly interrupts the moment.

“What are you doing here, Mycroft?”

“I came to check on my baby brother and his new … _friend_.” Mycroft replies, looking from his brother to John; analyzing him with his eyes. “And I see you’re making somewhat of a _family_ together. When’s the wedding, might I ask?” Mycroft adds, a snide smirk crossing his lips.

“I was only making an attempt at making a _difficult_   situation work, Mycroft.” Sherlock growls, staring his brother down.

“So my daughter is a _difficult_   situation now, is she?” John asks, staring at Sherlock.

“Aww, should I leave you two lovers in private while you have your little tiff?” Mycroft asks, that snide smirk back on his lips. “What a lovely little _thing,_ she is.” He adds, walking a few steps forward and looking at the little baby.

Sherlock’s arms instinctively grip Ariana a little tighter and Mycroft’s smirk falters.

John looks from Mycroft back to Sherlock and instantly notices the change.

He clears his throat and actually growls, “If you don’t _mind_ , my daughter needs feeding. I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

And with that Mycroft stares at the two men, looks down at the little girl and then heads for the door.

“Goodbye, Sherlock, John.”

Sherlock loosens his grip slightly and John looks back at Sherlock.

“What was that?”

“My brother being snide as always.”

“No, I don’t mean _him._ I mean, you. Why did you, well, do that?” He asks, gesturing to Ariana.

“Do what?”

“Hold her tighter when Mycroft came closer.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did, you …”

“Hello, boys. Aww look at you two, bonding with the baby.” Mrs Hudson interrupts, giving a sweet smile. “Do you need anything? Milk, maybe something edible?”

“Milk would be fine, Mrs Hudson. Thank you.” John replies, still staring Sherlock down.

“Alright then. Just this once, I’m not your housekeeper. Aww, look at her. Such a beautiful little girl. But with a father like you, John, what do you expect.” Mrs Hudson replies, stroking the girl’s head softly. “I’ll be back in a little while then. Have fun, boys.”

And with that, Mrs Hudson walks back out the room and out the front door.

“See? You didn’t do it with Mrs Hudson. Maybe because you don’t see her as a threat. But with Mycroft, you gripped her so tight I thought I was about to have to take her to A&E for broken bones.”

“I didn’t, John!” Sherlock growls, glaring at John.

“Sherlock, it’s okay. It’s natural to feel protective of a child.” John replies softly, kneeling down in front of Sherlock and stroking Ariana’s face.

“Of your own child, maybe, John. But not of someone else’s.” Sherlock tries to snap, but it comes out as a sad whisper.

“Well, you can be … uncle Sherlock, if you want?” John smiles sweetly, looking up into Sherlock’s eyes.

Sherlock just stares back and both men are pretty sure the other has stopped breathing.

John places a hand on the younger man’s knee and Sherlock flicks his eyes to it then back to John. He drops the bottle over the arm of the chair, shifts Ana into one arm and leans in to kiss John.

The kiss is only experimental and quick, before Sherlock pulls back and blushes slightly.

“… Sorry about that.” Sherlock says suddenly, clearing his throat a little. “I … I never meant to … do _that_.” He adds, looking back to Ana.

“Um, yeah … so as I said before, hold the bottle up like this then she won’t swallow any air.” John replies, standing back up with the bottle in hand and gently guiding it to Ariana’s mouth, conveniently avoiding touching Sherlock in anyway.

“Mm.” Sherlock responds, still staring at the little girl.

“I’m just gonna … make a cuppa. Want one?” John asks distractedly, making his way to the kitchen.

“I’ll make you one anyway, shall I?” John mutters, knowing he still won’t get a reply either way.

A few minutes later John returns with two cups of tea and places one cup on the desk next to Sherlock.

Silence falls over the flat as Sherlock continues to give Ana her bottle and John lets out a long sigh.

“John.”

“Yes, Sherlock.”

“Why do you see caring as something good?”

John looks at Sherlock, trying to figure out what’s going on in that mad brain of his.

“Because … well, um. It … it proves that you’re human and it’s comforting, I guess. It makes you feel _something_.” John replies unsurely.

“But feelings can hurt and make you weak.”

“Yes, they do. But when they are returned, they’re good. And we should all feel weak sometimes, that’s how we know that we will be strong again. No one likes to feel weak or get hurt but it’s a part of life, Sherlock. It’s just what happens.” John replies, resting his arms on his knees and looking Sherlock in the eyes.

“I don’t think I can return those feelings, John. I’ve always been told that caring is a great disadvantage. You can get hurt and become compromised. I … I’m afraid, John.” Sherlock whispers, looking back down at Ariana.

“What?” John asks unsurely, before walking back over to Sherlock and kneeling in front of him again. “Sherlock, it’s okay to be afraid. That’s how you know it’s real. I’m not asking … well, I don’t _know_ what I’m asking for in terms of this … arrangement. But I won’t force you into anything. Whatever you want, I’ll help you with it. If you want to be uncle Sherlock then we’ll transition you into it slowly. If you want,” He gestures between them before continuing, “then we’ll do that slowly too.”

“I don’t know what I want, John. I never imagined …” Sherlock breaks off, looking up at John.

“What?” John presses gently, his eyes softening.

“I never imagined that someone would care … about me. I mean, I know Mycroft does, in his own way but everyone else sees me as a freak. I didn’t think that … I could actually be liked.” Sherlock replies, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an annoying dick all the time then you would be liked.” John replies with a smile.

Sherlock is about to bite back but looks up and sees John’s smile and finds himself smiling in return.

“I’ll put her back to bed for a bit.” John adds after a moment, picking his daughter gently up out of Sherlock’s arms, his fingers grazing Sherlock’s slightly.

“Mm.” Sherlock replies, picking up his cup of tea and leaning back in his chair.

John nods in response, carrying his daughter back to the bedroom.

“Sleep well, my angel. Daddy loves you.” John smiles at his daughter, laying her in the cot as her eyes begin to drift close.

“You always tell her you love her.” Sherlock interrupts again.

“Jesus, Sherlock! Can’t you knock? Twice now, in the same day.” John exclaims, jumping out of his skin for the second time.

“Apologies, I just wondered if you were hungry?” Sherlock asks awkwardly.

“Yeah, why not. Angelo’s?” John replies with a smile.

“Angelo’s.” Sherlock agrees, mirroring John’s smile before leaving the room.

 _Life with Sherlock Holmes is definitely anything but boring._ John thinks, smiling to himself and heading down the stairs.


	6. Realisations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John finally learn a few things.  
> Sherlock discovers these from John and John discovers them from none other than, Mycroft Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had our very busy days at Gay Pride. I hope this makes up for it.  
> I took a little idea from power0girl's The Gamble on John's little nickname for Sherlock. Just because I thought it was sweet, I hope you don't mind hun xxxxx

“Morning, John.” Sherlock says, upon hearing John enter the room.

“Have you been there all night?” John asks, rubbing his eyes as he walks into the room.

Sherlock looks up from his position on the couch and sees John stretching and yawning; his t-shirt rising and showing off some of his stomach. Sherlock gulps and throws his arm over his eyes again.

“You alright, Sherlock?” John asks, looking over at the young detective having heard him gulp quite audibly.

“Yes, yes, fine.” Sherlock snaps, still not looking at John.

“I’ll make us a brew, shall I, Sher?” John replies, rolling his eyes and heading to the kitchen.

 _Great, he’s in one of his moods again. So much for a peaceful day with Ariana. Hum, I might take her to the park. Leave the moody bastard to mope. Yeah, that would be nice. Me and Ana have barely been out since we moved in here._ John thinks as he makes two cups of tea, knowing Sherlock will probably not even look at his own.

_Ah well, it’s the thought that counts, as mother used to say. Maybe he’ll show some appreciation by not shooting the walls or leaving his experiments in the …_

“Sherlock! There’s another _bloody_ head in the fridge! Why?!” John exclaims, slamming the door shut. _For fuck’s sake. Why does he do this?_

xxxxxxxxx

Sherlock doesn’t reply as he’s currently in his mind palace.

_John’s t-shirt rising and showing off his stomach. That well-toned, nicely tanned stomach that you’d just like to run your tongue… Stop, Sherlock! You don’t have feelings for John! Your hand didn’t tingle yesterday when his fingers gently grazed yours and you didn’t feel aroused before when his t-shirt … Stop It!_

_“You alright, Sherlock?” John’s sweet voice asking softly about your well-being. So kind and considerate, and so gorg … Stop torturing yourself, Sherlock._

_“Yes, yes, fine.” You really shouldn’t have snapped at him, he was only concerned. It’s only natural, he’s your friend._

_I don’t have friends!_

_“I’ll make us a brew, shall I, Sher?” Sher? Did he realise he said that? Maybe it’s just a nickname, like Harry or Johnny._

_Maybe, it’s more. You know what Sher means don’t you, Sherlock? It’s a word for darling or dear. What does that tell you, mmm?_

_Shut up! I can’t think!_

xxxxxxxxx

“Shut up! I can’t think!” Sherlock shouts out loud.

“Sherlock. I haven’t spoken for ten minutes. I tried getting your attention but you weren’t listening so … I gave up. I made you a brew.”  John replies, the last might coming out a bit sheepish and causing him to blush a little.

“What were you saying, John?” Sherlock asks suddenly, his eyes snapping open and fixing the doctor’s own.

“I … Never mind, doesn’t matter, Sherlock.” John replies, looking back to the morning paper.

“You made me a brew?” And both John _and_ Sherlock are surprised that it actually sounds like a question.

John looks up for a moment and then re-composes himself before settling to read the paper again, “Good observation, that.” He simply replies, sipping his brew.

“Thank you.” Sherlock whispers, picking up the warm drink and looking at the floor.

John’s head snaps up and he watches Sherlock, _watching_ the floor.

“You’re … welcome.” He smiles, even though Sherlock can’t see him but the younger man looks up and smiles back.

“I was thinking of taking Ana to the park. Seeing as you’re in a mood.” John adds, still scanning the paper.

“I’m not in a _mood._ ” Sherlock snaps, fixing John with a glare.

John can feel Sherlock’s gaze burning him and he looks up with a small smile, “Of course not.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes in return before going back to sipping his drink.

A silence falls over the room before it’s interrupted by Mycroft.

“Hello, boys. Oh, still in the middle of your spat are we?” The older Holmes greets with a snide smirk.

“Shut up, Mycroft.” John jumps in with before Sherlock has a chance. “You really like pouring fuel on an already burning fire, don’t you?” He snaps, taking his empty cup to the kitchen.

Sherlock just smirks into his cup.

Mycroft follows John into the kitchen, not paying any attention to his little brother, and closes the sliding doors behind him.

“It seems that we have gotten off on the wrong foot, Doctor Watson.”

“Whose fault is that then?” John snaps back, focusing on scrubbing the cup so he doesn’t _throw_ it at the older Holmes.

“If you have any intentions of _getting_ with my brother then you’d do well to stay on my good side.” Mycroft replies calmly.

“ _Stay on your good side?_  You’re the one who walks in like a nervous time bomb all the time!” John actually shouts, finally looking at Mycroft.

“It’s only been twice, Doctor Watson.” Mycroft replies, still very calmly which worries John.

He can deal with anger and danger but calm, calm means deadly and he has a feeling that Mycroft is very _deadly_.

“So you don’t deny it then, I see.” Mycroft adds, before taking a seat at the dining table and placing his umbrella on his chair.

“Listen, I don’t know what you _think_ is going on, but me and Sherlock are just friends. And we’re barely that.”

“I _think_ it’s a little more than that, John.”

“What would you know? You don’t care for anyone. Neither does Sherlock.”

“I would agree _normally_. But for some reason, Sherlock has grown _attached_ to you in such a short space of time. Which worries me.”

“Why does it worry you? Because you won’t be able to manipulate your brother anymore?”

“I don’t intend on _manipulating_ my brother, Doctor …”

“Stop with the _Doctor Watson_! I know you don’t respect me enough to use my title.”

“On the contrary, I respect you immensely. Anyone who has managed to control and somewhat, _tame_ my little brother deserves great respect. He isn’t an easy man to handle.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“If you wish to be with him then you must do it on his terms …” Mycroft pauses to see of John will agree or disagree.

“Go on.” The doctor simply replies.

“You must not push him. If he wants you, which is becoming very obvious, then he will attempt to do something _in time_ …”

“Wait, what do you mean _which is becoming very obvious_?”

“I have known my brother his whole life, he has never become _attached_ to anything. But you, well, you’re _different_.”

Sherlock, who had been stood at the door listening the whole time, walks in.

“Stay away from him, Mycroft.” Sherlock practically shouts, standing between his older brother and John.

“My point exactly.” Mycroft simply replies, standing up and grabbing his umbrella. “Remember what I said, John. Goodbye, dear brother. Doctor Watson.”

And with that, Mycroft walks out of the kitchen and down the stairs.

“You were listening the whole time.” John says suddenly, it’s not a question.

“Yes.”

“So, is he right? Do you … ya know …”

“Yes.” Sherlock replies, still staring at the now open doors.

“Oh … So …”

“So _what_ , John?” Sherlock snaps, his head snapping back to glare at John.

“For God’s sake. Do I have to spell it out for you? Do you like me? As more than a friend, I mean?”

“Yes.” Sherlock whispers, looking at the floor.

“Then what do we do about it?”

Sherlock doesn’t reply, he just walks back into the living room and picks up his mobile.

 

**_11 th February 2010   10.00am_ **

_I need some advice_

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

**_11 th February 2010  10.05am_ **

_I’m in a meeting, Sherlock_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

**_11 th February 2010   10.08am_ **

_It’s of extreme importance_

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

**_11 th February 2010   10.12am_ **

_Be quick and to the point_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

**_11 th February 2010   10.17am_ **

_I’ve developed some feelings for my_

_flatmate. He wants to know what_

_the next step is_

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

**_11 th February 2010   10.20am_ **

_That Doctor Watson? He seems like_

_a nice guy, and if he likes you back_

_then tell him. Don’t be, how do you_

_put it, oh yeah, an idiot. If he wants you_

_too, God help him, then don’t let him walk_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

**_11 th February 2010   10.25am_ **

_And no, I don’t mean break his legs or_

_whatever. Just tell him! Now, I have to_

_go, I’m meeting with some Government_

_Official. Good luck_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

**_11 th February 2010   10.27am_ **

_You’re the one who needs the luck,_

_Lestrade_

_SH_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

**_11 th February 2010   10.29am_ **

_What? Never mind_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

“What are you doing, Sherlock?” John interrupts suddenly, walking back into the living room.

“I was just seeing if Lestrade had any good cases for us. I asked him for anything above a seven but he has a meeting so nothing yet.” Sherlock replies in a rush, causing John to give him a look.

“Lestrade is the DI we met at the first crime scene right? Silver hair? He seems nice.”

“Yes, obviously … What do you mean _nice_?”

“Careful, Sher, you sound jealous.” John replies with a smirk.

“Sher?” Sherlock asks without thinking.

“Sorry. Um, I guess you probably don’t like nicknames, do you? Never mind.” John replies awkwardly, looking down at the floor as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I … You’re right, never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” Sherlock shakes his head slightly and stares out of the window.

“Sherlock.” John pushes gently.

“Shh, thinking.”

“Right. I’m going to take Ana to the park, I’ll see you later, yeah.” John gives a sort of smile and then goes to awkwardly hug Sherlock, before deciding against it and just gripping his shoulder gently and heading for the door.

Sherlock lets out the breath he had been holding and spins on his heels, “John.” The name leaves his mouth before he’s even realised it.

“Yeah?” John stops on his way to the door and looks back at Sherlock.

“Mm, can I … come with you? If that’s alright? It’s just … isn’t that what _normal_ couples do?” Sherlock asks awkwardly, bringing a hand to his face as a blush starts to collar his cheeks.

“Mm, yeah, they do. Why? Is that what we are?” John asks, trying to sound curious rather than hopeful and desperate.

“If that is what you want, John. Do you find me attractive?”

“It’s not all about looks, Sher. But yes, I guess I do.”

“I know my personality is less _desirable_ , but it’s … manageable, right?” Sherlock whispers, looking up at John with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll get used to it. Plus, as long as you’re okay with Ana then I could be _persuaded_.” John replies, a suggestive smile pulling at his lips.

“Doctor Watson, are you _propositioning_ me?” Sherlock squeaks, his blush deepening.

“I might be.” John’s smirk is definite now and he moves over into Sherlock’s personal space again.

Sherlock’s breath hitches as he stares down at his flat mate, trying to deduce him.

John chuckles and places his hands on Sherlock’s chest, getting onto his tiptoes to kiss the younger man.

Sherlock let’s his brain shut down for a few moments and allows his body to take control, wrapping his arms around the smaller man.

“You are such a wonder, Watson.” Sherlock smiles sweetly as the kiss breaks.

“I’ll be sure to keep you on your toes then, _Sher_.” John smiles back, emphasising his nickname for his new soon-to-be-lover.

“I knew that wasn’t just a nickname.” Sherlock grins, kissing John again softly.

“But of course, you don’t like nicknames.”

“I could learn to love them when they come from you.” Sherlock replies honestly, staring into John’s eyes.

And so John is falling for his mad, eccentric, beautiful flat mate and he honestly doesn’t care how much of a fool that makes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed John and Sherlock's first (non-accidental) kiss ;) xxxxx


	7. Sleep Tight, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock babysits Ariana when John goes back to work.  
> And Sherlock discovers that looking after a baby might be better than he thought.  
> But Sherlock isn't the only one who makes an interesting discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went all soppy. I couldn't help it, it was just begging to be written. I tried to stay humorous but it just fell into soppy, fluffy Johnlock by the end and I realised that I didn't mind that at all.  
> So enjoy xxxxxx

“I’m going to work. Are you okay to look after Ana?” John asks, grabbing his mobile and flat keys.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sherlock asks nervously, looking at John worriedly.

“You’ll be fine, Sher. Just don’t try and experiment on her, okay?” John grins, leaning down to kiss his partner’s forehead.

“It’s been two months, John and you’ve never left me alone with her. Can’t you postpone work until tomorrow or … permanently. We don’t exactly need the money.” Sherlock replies desperately.

“Sher, you know I’m not happy with Mycroft paying our rent. I don’t want him thinking that I’m only with you because it’s an easy life.”

“Ha, I don’t care what Mycroft thinks.”

“Yes, but I do. Now, Ana needs a feed at ten, two and five. I should be home by her next feed. The bottles are all set up ready, before you ask.” John replies with a smile, kissing his partner before he can argue. “Have fun.”

John makes a quick check on Ana before heading down the stairs.

x..x

“So, are you going to start crying when I pick you up or are you going to behave?” Sherlock asks the baby, who is currently looking at him curiously. “Perfect, I’ve turned into your father. Well, maybe you’ll be a clever child and will be talking in six or seven more months.”

Sherlock picks Ana up and carries her to the living room to give the baby her morning feed.

Ana suckles gently on the bottle; curious eyes watching the young detective as he stares back at her.

“So, good milk is it? Nice and warm?” Sherlock asks the baby, the silence annoying him too much.

“What shall we do today, Ariana? Do you want to help Sherlock do some experiments?” Sherlock asks with a smile before remembering John’s words. “Don’t worry, you won’t be part of them. I mean help me. Well, technically I suppose I mean watch me do the experiments and behave … But that will be fun, won’t it?”

Ana continues to suckle on the bottle and stare intently on Sherlock as he rambles on.

Suddenly, she starts coughing and Sherlock freezes; trying to remember what John does when he’s feeding her and this happens. He pulls the bottle away from her mouth and carefully sits her up so that she can breathe better.

“There we go. All better.” Sherlock smiles at Ana softly.

Just then, Ana makes a face and this puzzles Sherlock.

“Oh, that’s your burp face. I remember. Um, oh, yeah. Over the shoulder and a gentle pat, isn’t it?”

Sherlock rests the baby on his shoulder and gently pats her back until she finally burps loudly in his ear. Despite himself, Sherlock smiles and even allows a small chuckle to escape.

“Feel better?” Sherlock asks, resting Ana back in his arms again.

Ana seems to smile in response and Sherlock returns it with a wide grin.

x..x

“Right, so remember, don’t tell Daddy what happened to the kitchen table. Sherlock didn’t test a chemical reaction on the table.” Sherlock tells the little baby curled up on the couch.

Ariana makes a gurgling noise in response and Sherlock smiles warmly.

Sherlock quickly cleans up the experiment and tries to hide the burn stain on the kitchen table.

“There, all done. You’re not that bad, really. Not for a gurgling, non-speaking human, that is. You’re not nearly as boring as I thought you’d be either.” Sherlock tells Ariana, picking her up and staring at her.

She makes a noise in response and Sherlock smiles again, laying her on his chest.

x..x

“Sherlock, I’m back. Sherlock?” The doctor asks the quiet flat, worry starting in his tone. “Sherlock! Where are …” John breaks off when he sees the sight in front of him.

Sherlock is in his usual position on his back on the couch but this time he’s holding Ariana to his chest, his arms slightly slack from sleeping deeply.

“What have you two been up to while I’ve been at work, huh?” John asks the two sleeping forms, smiling warmly at the sight.

He has a sudden thought and pulls out his mobile, snapping a quick picture of his two loves for any time he has to be away for a long period of time. Johns smiles again and pockets his phone, gently stroking Ariana’s head.

The baby murmurs in her sleep and Sherlock unconsciously grips her a little tighter, murmuring her name in his sleep.

“My two beautiful darlings. So who tired who out first, hey.”

“Jawn.” Sherlock murmurs, his heavy eyelids fluttering open.

“Yes, Sher. I’m here, love.” John replies with a soft smile, lifting Sherlock’s legs slightly so he can sit on the couch.

“When you get back?” Sherlock’s sleepy voice asks, blue eyes straining to stay open.

“Only a few minutes ago.” John replies softly, stroking Sherlock’s curls and getting a contented purr out of him.

“Fell asleep. Tired out … experiments … babysitting …” Sherlock mumbles, trying to stifle a yawn.

“I know, love.” John replies, moving his hand from Sherlock’s curls to his cheekbone.

“Put Ana to bed? Stay here if you want.” Sherlock continues to mumble.

“We’ll stay here, Sher.” John smiles, trying to shift into a comfortable position next to Sherlock.

“No room. Bed better.”

“We’re both too knackered and there’s no point risking waking Ana up. Besides, I’m sure we can make this work.” John replies, not entirely sure if he’s talking about their sleeping arrangements or their relationship.

“Could definitely work, Jawn. Me, you and baby. I like it.” Sherlock mumbles and John is definitely certain he isn’t just talking about sleeping arrangements.

John makes a mental note to store and treasure this moment; Sherlock’s sleepy expression, his little girl asleep in their arms and the fact that Sherlock is happy with the relationship.

“Go to sleep, darling. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” John replies, yawning and curling up into Sherlock’s arms.

“Love you, Jawn.” Sherlock replies sleepily, resting his head against John’s.

John’s eyes snap open for a minute before he smiles softly, “I love you too, Sher.”

He kisses the sleepy man’s forehead and gently strokes his daughter’s back; curling back up and throwing an arm protectively over the pair.

Sherlock hums in approval and snuggles down further and closer to John.

Silence falls over 221B as two men and a baby slip into blissful sleep, content with how their life is turning out.


	8. We’re Going Through Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes are finally made in the boys' relationship and it seems like things are going well.  
> But when John pushes Sherlock too far and causes the younger man to make a shocking confession  
> What will this mean for their future and how can John deal with the reality of the situation he's gotten himself in to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be finished days ago :( but I've had to do other things too and have only just managed to finish it. On the up-side, it's super long :)  
> Okay this started out really fluffy and then got really angsty at the end :( I was making a Reichenbach video and the thought entered my head so yeah. Apologies.  
> On the subject of said video, I will be spending the next few days on it as I have a trial version of a video maker and it runs out soon. I've spent a week on that too so I'm not letting it get erased because of some bloody trial version. Maybe when I have some money I'll buy the full version lol xxxxxx

The next morning John wakes up alone. He sighs to himself before noticing the cup of boiling tea, chocolate biscuits and a note. At first he thinks its Mrs Hudson doing, until he properly looks at the writing and it’s definitely Sherlock’s scrawl.

He cautiously sips the tea and notes that its right, in fact, it’s perfect. He hums in approval and picks up the note.

_John,_

_I went to buy some shopping, I thought you needed a lie-in._

_Ariana’s been fed and I’ll be back soon._

_Have a nice sleep and we’ll talk when I get home._

_I … well you know._

_Sherlock_

_x_

John smiles warmly, _typical Sherlock. Well, maybe he’ll say it one day._ John thinks, chuckling to himself and finishing his brew. He heads to the kitchen to wash his cup and pulls out his mobile.

_I love you, you idiot._

_John_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Well that’s gratitude_

_Sherlock_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Thank you, Sher_

_John_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_You’re welcome, John_

_Sherlock_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Please say it back_

_John_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Say what, John?_

_Sherlock_

_x_

_Sherlock. Please_

_John_

_x_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

When Sherlock doesn’t text back after five minutes, John remembers what Mycroft said about not pushing the younger man to open up. That still doesn’t stop the doctor from sighing loudly before he starts searching the cupboards for anything to eat. He decides to turn on the radio while he makes some jam on toast.

He hums along to the cheesy song on the radio and doesn’t hear footsteps coming up the stairs or them heading to the kitchen.

The younger man stands at the doorway, listening to John hum away to some cheesy song and smiles warmly. After a few moments, he moves over to the doctor and wraps his arms around him; the motion of John swaying making him sway too.

John doesn’t say anything or make any reaction to Sherlock’s presence; he just sways to the music and chews on his toast.

“I love you too.” Sherlock whispers in his ear, causing John to stop swaying and humming.

“What?” John asks softly, leaning back into Sherlock’s chest.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. You know how I hate that.” It’s supposed to sound annoyed but comes out more as a soft whisper.

“I didn’t hear you the first time.” John replies and Sherlock can hear the smile despite not being able to see it.

“I love you too.” Sherlock repeats, resting his chin on John’s head.

“I know.” And now Sherlock can hear the smile turning into a grin, and he knows he should be annoyed but he just can’t bring himself to be, so he just chuckles in response.

“Idiot.” He adds after a few moments.

“Says the one.” John replies, chuckling softly and squeezing Sherlock’s hands.

“Shut up.”

John just chuckles in response, leaning his head back onto Sherlock’s shoulder to look at his partner.

Sherlock turns his head to meet John’s eyes and kisses his forehead before resting his forehead against John’s hair.

“What about Ana?” John asks after a few minutes of silence.

“What about her?” Sherlock asks softly, looking at John.

“You won’t get bored of her? I mean, it’s gonna be a few more months until she can walk and then many more before she can talk. Won’t you get bored?” John replies softly, looking up at his partner.

“How could I? She’s your daughter, John. She’s a by-product of you.” Sherlock smiles back at his partner.

“So you’re _actually_ taking to her then?” John grins at his partner.

“She isn’t as boring as I thought she’d be. I made a mistake.” Sherlock sniffs, looking out the kitchen window.

“Wait. Did Sherlock Holmes just admit to making a _mistake_?” John asks in a mock shocked tone.

“Yes, yes. Alright, don’t rub it in.” Sherlock sighs dramatically.

John chuckles and turns around in Sherlock’s arms, ”I love you, you idiot.” He laughs.

“Are you going to keep calling me that?” Sherlock asks, trying not to smile.

“Only when you are one.” John smiles at his partner, kissing him softly.

“So, in theory, I’m allowed to do the same?” Sherlock asks when the kiss is broken.

“You _always_ call me an idiot.”

“Yes, I guess I do.” Sherlock replies sadly.

“I don’t mind just so long as it’s not meant to hurt me.” John smiles softly.

“How will I know if it does?”

“I’ll tell you.” John replies gently.

“Alright.” Sherlock finally smiles in return.

“Shall we get Ana?”

“I’d like that, John.” Sherlock replies, kissing John tentatively. “Um, sorry.”

“I know this is still new to you, Sher and its okay. We’ll go slow.”

“I don’t want to … go slow. We’ve being going slow for months now. I want to … move things along.”

“Really, Sher? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. Come with me.” John replies, gently pulling Sherlock back into the living room and sitting him on the couch.

“Before anything else, we’ll start with kissing. So, um …” John replies awkwardly, recalling when he was twelve and had his first kiss with a girl.

“John, I need you. Tell me. What do I do with my hands? And where do I touch and not touch? And what about the actually kissing, do I use my tongue or not? And …” Sherlock rambles desperately.

“Sher, calm down. It’s okay. I’ll talk you through it. First of all, you can put your hands anywhere you want on me.” John pauses and gives Sherlock a suggestive smile, making the younger man blush. “Secondly, you can use your tongue if you want. But it’s not compulsory for a first kiss, we can get to that when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“You ready?” John asks softly, placing a reassuring hand on Sherlock’s knee.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay. So we’ll start with a peck. All you have to do is pucker your lips a little, lean forward and tilt your head.” John replies, leaning in while he talks.

Sherlock does as he’s told and their lips meet; causing a buzz to shoot down the younger man’s spine.

John pulls away and smiles widely, giving a little chuckle.

“Next is more of a kiss. Same thing but you move your lips more.”

John repeats the same process but this time he places a hand on Sherlock’s neck and the other on his leg, while moving his lips slowly.

Sherlock can’t think what to do with his hands and his mind panics, causing him to stiffen.

The doctor feels Sherlock’s posture change and decides to help him out. He moves Sherlock’s hand to his waist and the other round his back.

The younger man relaxes dramatically and hums in appreciation, pulling John closer.

Sherlock gets a little brave and flicks his tongue out experimentally, John opens his mouth to let Sherlock’s tongue in and the younger man swipes it all round the inside of John’s mouth, causing him to moan loudly.

After a few minutes, John pulls away slightly and smiles softly, his hand still resting on Sherlock’s neck.

“You’re a fast learner.”

“You’re a very patient and competent teacher, John.”

“Oh, I’m nothing if not _patient_. Especially with you.” John grins wickedly.

Sherlock scowls before asking, “John, can we … um … can we go somewhere else … like the … bedroom.” He stammers softly, looking down at the floor.

“Um, Sher, don’t you think that’s a bit fast? I mean, we’ve just started on kissing, we don’t have to do everything at once.” John replies in a rush.

“John, I told you, I don’t want slow. I want to do _everything_. And I want that … with _you_.”

“I know, baby. But please, let’s take this slow. We have plenty of time.”

“Baby? Is that what partners call each other?”

John chuckles softly, _trust Sherlock to only listen to that part_.

“Some do. There’s darling or sweetheart, love, babe and there’s even honey. It just depends on preference.”

“Babe and honey sound very teenager and a little bit girly. Darling is nice and baby’s good too. I could even be okay with sweetheart and love. It’s up to you what you want to call me. I don’t know if … if I could return the favour though. I’m sorry, John.”

“Don’t worry, Sher. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Yes, but doesn't that make me a bad boyfriend?” Sherlock asks worriedly.

“Oh, baby, of course it doesn't. It just makes you, you.” John replies softly, stroking Sherlock’s cheek.

“Okay. So what's next?”

“Ah, well. I was hoping you wouldn't ask.” John replies, looking at the floor awkwardly and beginning to blush.

“John. What is … Oh. Oh!” Sherlock exclaims, realising what John is trying to avoid.

“Have you ever tried _that_?” John asks, still feeling awkward.

“Only when it was necessary. Like when it meant saving some dignity.” Sherlock replies matter-of-factly.

“Good.” John sighs in relief, thankful he doesn't have to explain to Sherlock about giving himself 'a hand'.

“Can we try that? I've never done it for pleasure before.” Sherlock whispers.

Despite the innocence of the words, the fact that Sherlock used the word _pleasure_ , causes a noticeable twitch in John's pants.

John gulps loudly and shifts slightly so Sherlock can't see his reaction.

“Are you alright, John?” Sherlock asks worriedly.

“I'm fine. It's just ...” John breaks off, blushing dramatically.

Sherlock looks down at John's lap and immediately realises. “Oh, you've … right. Um, I could help, if you talk me through what you like.”

Sherlock's words do nothing to prevent the growing erection and he has to bite his lip to prevent a moan escaping.

“John, you clearly need help with that and I think it would be better for both of us if _I_ helped. You could teach me and I could give you something in return.”

“Sherlock, stop. Please.” John replies through gritted teeth, trying not to listen because he's afraid he'll take him up on the offer and end up pushing Sherlock too much.

“If that's how you feel.” Sherlock whispers, standing up and heading for the door.

John jumps up and grabs his arm, practically throwing him onto the couch and climbing on top of the younger man.

“You know that's not how I _feel_ , _Sher._ ” He replies, pressing his hips down to prove his point. “But don't blame me if I push you too far, remember, you asked for this.” The doctor adds, unzipping Sherlock's pants and pulling them down to his knees.

“Jawn.” Sherlock moans, gripping John's arms tightly in his hands. “It's … okay. Just do it … please.” He continues to moan, bucking his hips up.

“Look at you, just begging for it. Have you ever fantasised about this, _Sher_?” John asks in a rough whisper in Sherlock's ear, but practically purring when he gets to Sherlock's name. “Is this what you imagined? Me on top of you on the couch? Ripping your clothes off and making you breathless in anticipation? Me making you moan my name when I touch you?” John continues on, pressing the palm of his hand into Sherlock's erection and causing the younger man to moan.

“Jawn. Please.” Sherlock moans, bucking his hips up again.

“You're so beautiful like this. Panting and begging like a wanton little virgin. It's such a turn on, _Sher_. I want you like this all the time. I want to break you and put you back together, over and over again. And you'd let me, wouldn't you?”

Sherlock moans in agreement and John decides it's finally time to strip Sherlock of his modesty.

The younger man gasps as cold air hits his cock but he only has a moment to register it when a warm, wet mouth engulfs it and Sherlock thinks he might just have a heart attack at the rate his heart rate is speeding up so dramatically.

John licks teasingly and Sherlock bites his fist to stop himself from screaming. After a few licks, John pulls off of the younger man's cock and instead replaces it with his hand.

He starts stroking slowly for a few minutes before gradually speeding up into an average steady rhythm.

“Tell me what you want, _Sher_. I want to hear you say it.” John says in a husky voice.

“I want … I want you to … faster.” Sherlock stammers, trying to focus on the ability to speak.

“As you wish.” John grins, speeding up until his hand seems to become numb and Sherlock's writhing, trying not to scream.

“Jawn. God. Oh, _fuck._ Jesus, Jawn.” Sherlock moans breathlessly.

And the obscenity of Sherlock _actually_ swearing causes John to moan in reply, feeling his jeans tighten until they're impossibly uncomfortable.

“That's it, _Sher_. Let go, baby. Just let it go.” John replies, his voice softening into an almost whisper.

“John, I ... I’m gonna … Jawn.” Sherlock moans, fists gripping the sofa hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Sherlock comes hard with an ear-piercing scream of John's name, his whole body rising off the couch before collapsing back onto it again.

“So beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy. Amazing.” John replies, laying quick kisses to Sherlock's face.

“Don't you … I need to … What about you?” Sherlock finally stammers out, breathlessly.

John moves Sherlock's hand to his crotch and Sherlock can feel the dampness of where John as already come.

“Uh, wow.” Sherlock moans at the feel and throws his head back with a loud groan.

“Tired?” John asks softly, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

“Very. But, well worth it. Thank you … You were right.”

“Right about what?” John asks, giving Sherlock a quizzical look.

“What you said before. I would let you break me. But _only_ you. No one else. Because I don't want anyone else to have that opportunity.” Sherlock replies softly, looking John in the eyes.

“I'm sorry. I warned you that I might push you too far and I have. Sher, I'm so sorry.” John whispers softly, tears stinging his eyes.

“I don't want you to be sorry, John. I want you to … Well, I just want you. And I want you to want me too.” Sherlock almost snaps, hating confessing his feelings so openly.

“Of course I want you, sweetheart. I want everything about you. Your impossibly beautiful mind, your elegant body, your unusual soul but most of all, I want your beating heart. Because I know it _beats_ inside that chest of yours and it's not just a block of ice like you'd have the world believe. I want _you._ Everything about _you_.” John smiles softly, laying down next to Sherlock.

“I could own you. I could break you just as easily as you could break me. Except I know I could do more damage, John.” Sherlock whispers, his voice threatening to break.

“But I know you won't. I know you wouldn't do that to me. I know you.”

“Good.” Sherlock simply replies, curling up into John's side. “I'm tired, John.”

“Then sleep, my love. I'll be here when you wake.” John replies, kissing Sherlock's forehead and dragging the throw off the back of the couch to cover over them and give them back some of their modesty.

x..x

For the two hours Sherlock sleeps, John does not. He goes over in his head what he said to Sherlock before and after their _moment_ on the couch. He nearly breaks down as the conversation echoes in his head.

 _“Look at you, just begging for it. Have you ever fantasised about this, Sher? Is this what you imagined? Me on top of you on the couch? Ripping your clothes off and making you breathless in anticipation? Me making you moan my name when I touch you?_ _You're so beautiful like this. Panting and begging like a wanton little virgin. It's such a turn on, Sher. I want you like this all the time. I want to break you and put you back together, over and over again. And you'd let me, wouldn't you?”_

John nearly sobs at how badly he spoke to Sherlock. He treated him like some crude sex toy; someone he could just abuse and then leave without a second thought. Sherlock is certainly more than that to John. John's actually fell in love with this man. Something he thought wasn't possible after Mary.

_“I would let you break me. But only you. No one else. Because I don't want anyone else to have that opportunity.”_

This man really _would_ let John break him. And _it_ would break _John_. He never meant to let himself fall in love with him. It was just supposed to be a flat-share. Somewhere were there wouldn't be horrible memories of what he'd lost. But for some reason, God decided he should fall in love with his flatmate.

_“I'm sorry. I warned you that I might push you too far and I have. Sher, I'm so sorry.”_

_“I don't want you to be sorry, John. I want you to … Well, I just want you. And I want you to want me too.”_

_“Of course I want you, sweetheart. I want everything about you. You're impossibly beautiful mind, you're elegant body, you're unusual soul but most of all, I want you're beating heart. Because I know it beats inside that chest of yours and it's not just a block of ice like you'd have the world believe. I want you. Everything about you.”_

John had known what he was saying. He knew that he wanted this man more than, possibly, life itself. He wants every part of him and it makes his heart clench that Sherlock _would_ actually let him take it all.

_“I could own you. I could break you just as easily as you could break me. Except I know I could do more damage, John.”_

It's possible that they could _own_ each other. Both demanding something that the other can't give. They could just as easily destroy each other. Was that really _good_ for a relationship?

_“But I know you won't. I know you wouldn't do that to me. I know you.”_

John's mind focuses on what he said in reply to Sherlock's confession and he can't help the nagging feeling there.

 _Does_ he know that Sherlock wouldn't break him? How can he be so sure of that? Sherlock is an impossible human being and can do anything when he puts that brilliant mind of his to it. Maybe he could break the doctor. Maybe he could be the only person in this world possible of doing so and walking away unscathed.

_Maybe he could quite easily be the death of me._

That last thought hovers in John's mind as his body gives into exhaustion and finally allows him to sleep.


	9. A Sherlock Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes are made with Greg and Mycroft's relationship but will all involved be happy?  
> Or will Sherlock try everything in his power to destroy Mycroft's happiness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This runs along side An Unlikely Romance and this follows the argument Mystrade has. I'm afraid you'll have to read that chapter before this one as I've posted the argument there.  
> But this is the before and after which explains why Sherlock did what he did to Mycroft.  
> Sorry, I'm just being awkward ;) xxxxxx

** Two Days Earlier **

“John, um, could we … have … sex? I mean, I know you want to so … why don't we?” Sherlock asks suddenly, looking incredibly awkward.

“Sher, are you … are you sure? I mean, don't you think you're rushing into this without knowing how _difficult_ it's going to be.”

“I really want to. I know you'll be gentle with me, John.” Sherlock replies softly, kneeling down in front of John.

“Sher ... Please … Don't do this. I … I don't want to ...”

“Jawn. Pleaaassseeee.” Sherlock pouts, crawling into John's lap.

“Sher … lock. You really don't … want to do … _this_.” John squeaks, feeling his jeans tighten.

“But I do.” Sherlock whispers in John's ear, a suggestive smile pulling at his lips.

“ _Sher_. Are you sure?” John half moans, trying to keep his arousal under control.

“ _Very_.” Sherlock whispers, his breath tickling John's ear.

John moans in reply; his head hitting the back of the chair with a thump.

Sherlock makes his move; grabbing John by the hand and practically running to the bedroom with John dragging behind.

“Sherlock, Mrs Hudson's downstairs, what if we disturb her?”

“John, I'm offering you sex. Are you really bringing up Mrs Hudson?” Sherlock growls, backing John up against the closed door.

“Al … right.” John moans, enjoying Sherlock's body pressing him into the door.

“Who's going first?” Sherlock asks with a seductive smile.

“Do you … want to?” John asks unsurely.

“For once, John, we're on the same page.” Sherlock smiles, stepping away from John. “I would offer you those … strip teases that people usually give but, um, well, I don't think I'd be nearly _sexy_ enough.” He continues shyly, looking down at himself critically.

John looks at his shy, insecure partner silently judging himself and walks over to him, “Baby, trust me when I say, you are plenty _sexy_ for me. _Very_ sexy indeed.” He grins, eyes roaming over Sherlock's body lustfully.

Sherlock gulps under John's wandering gaze, “You … you really think so?”

“Oh Sher, of course I do. You're beautiful to me and definitely _sexy_.” John smiles, purring on the last word.

“Jawn.” Sherlock moans, head rolling back.

John takes advantage of Sherlock's position and leans up to kiss his neck softly before licking from the collar bone all the way up to his chin, causing the younger man to moan and his knees to buckle. John catches Sherlock by the hips, allowing him to lean on the older man.

“Jawn, please.” Sherlock moans, resting his chin on John's shoulder and the doctor continues to lick and bite his neck.

“Let's get you to the bed then, baby.” John smiles, walking Sherlock backwards to the bed and laying the younger man down. “Mmm, where should I start? Your shirt? Or your _pants_?” The doctor looks up at Sherlock with a seductive stare.

“Jawn. Don't tease.” Sherlock moans again, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Patience, darling. Patience.” John soothes, unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt and running his hands over the pale chest. “Sit up.” He orders, pulling the younger man's arm.

John pulls the shirt from Sherlock's shoulders, running his hands down his arms and leaning in to kiss him softly.

“There's, um, protection in the draw.” Sherlock announces awkwardly, blushing bright red.

“Mmm, _prepared_ , I like that.” John smiles, winking at the younger man.

John reaches into the draw and pulls out a condom and some lube, humming at the fact that Sherlock picked up his favourite flavour.

“How did you know I preferred strawberry?” John asks, a smirk forming.

“I do my research.” Sherlock smirks back, licking his lips a little.

“I'll have to stretch you out first, okay.” John says softly, undoing the button and zip on Sherlock's pants.

“I … There's no need, John. I _sorted_ that earlier.” Sherlock replies sheepishly, looking down at the bedsheets.

John moans loudly, his heading falling back as the image runs through his mind.

“So I was right in what I did then?” Sherlock asks unsurely, giving John a questioning look.

“Actually, I would have preferred to do it myself. Or at least have the option to _watch you_.” John smirks, a little moan escaping.

“Oh, Jawn!” Sherlock moans loudly, collapsing back on the bed.

“I bet you looked beautiful, didn't you? Flushed cheeks as you spread yourself open, _preparing_ yourself for me. Where was I, _Sher_? Was it while I was doing the shopping? Or did you do it while I was here? Hoping I'd walk in and catch you? Did you moan my name? Tell me, _Sher._ ” John asks, crawling up Sherlock's body slowly.

“You … were talking ... to Mrs Hudson. I tried … waiting for you. Got impatient. Wanted to be ready for you. Willed you to … come upstairs … to help me. Wanted _you_.” Sherlock moans shamelessly, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

“You're so good, Sher. Doing all that work. Just for me. I'll be sure to makeit up to you.” John replies huskily, kissing Sherlock hard and passionately, the younger man moaning beneath him.

“Please.” Sherlock moans into John's mouth.

“Alright, baby. As you've been so good.”

John pulls Sherlock's pants and underwear off in one, staring at his partner's erection hungrily. He tentatively licks the head, testing Sherlock's reaction again.

The younger man nearly screams. _Hypersensitivity due to over stimulation._ John notes in his brain. _Probably won't take long to make him orgasm. That doesn't matter, I'll make it worth it._

John climbs off the bed; Sherlock following him with his eyes and John stares deep into the younger man's eyes as he slowly strips off his clothing; the younger man bites his lip and stares back hungrily.

When John is completely naked, he climbs back on the bed and lifts Sherlock's hips, resting his bum on his legs as he applies lube to Sherlock's entrance. The younger man continues to moan loudly, making John smile in appreciation.

“Ready, baby?” John asks softly, drawing circles on the inside of Sherlock's thigh.

“Yes. Please, Jawn.” Sherlock moans, trying to grab his partner.

“Alright then.”

John pushes in carefully and the younger man hisses in pain, “I'm sorry, darling. You're still _really_ tight.” John whispers softly, fingers running gently up and down Sherlock's inside thigh.

“You're _bigger_ than I thought you were, Jawn.”

“I know, I'm sorry, baby. Should I stop?”

“No!” Sherlock exclaims, grabbing John's hand tightly. “It's okay. I want this, John.”

“Alright, baby. But this is gonna hurt.”

“Just do it, John.”

John carefully pushes in further, not daring to look at Sherlock's pained expression.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, baby.” John chants to Sherlock as he continues to push in slowly.

“You're in, John. You're there.” Sherlock breathes, smiling a little.

“Are you ready for me to pull out? I can wait a minute.”

“No, it's okay. Pull out.”

John does as he's told and pulls out slowly, drawing a moan from Sherlock. He pushes back in slowly then pulls out again, repeating this a few times until Sherlock's comfy.

“Do you want to go faster?” John whispers gently.

“Please, Jawn.”

John smiles in response, ramming back into Sherlock, causing him to moan loudly and wrap his legs around John's waist.

When John pulls out again, Sherlock shifts his hips slightly so John can push in better.

John rams into Sherlock harder, causing the younger man to buck his hips up and a loud moan to escape his lips.

“Jawn, more. I want more.” Sherlock moans, pushing his hips down to prove his point.

John complies and pulls out nearly all the way, slamming back into Sherlock.

Sherlock screams loudly and John realises he's hit his prostate.

“How's that, baby? Want some more.” John growls, slamming back into Sherlock to hear him moan.

Sherlock bucks his hips up in response.

“More. Faster.” The younger man moans, forgetting all other words.

“Okay.” John smiles, thrusting in harder and harder; causing Sherlock to scream every time he hits his prostate.

“Jawn, I can't … Jawn, I’m gonna …”

“That's it, _Sher_. Let go, baby. Just let it go.” John replies, repeating the same words as he did when he first gave Sherlock a hand job.

Sherlock screams John's name; his whole body bucking off the bed before collapsing back down, leaving the younger man breathless.

John screams Sherlock’s name in response, filling the younger man with come before collapsing on top of him.

“Baby?” John asks breathlessly, looking up at the younger man; cheeks flushed, eyelids fighting to stay open and breaths coming out harshly.

“Mm.” Sherlock murmurs, too tired to actually speak.

“You … were … _fantastic_.” John says breathlessly, curling up next to his partner.

“I didn't … do anything. You did … all the work.” Sherlock whispers, looking back at John sleepily.

“You were very responsive.” John grins, finally getting his breath back.

“You were brilliant, John.” Sherlock grins back, kissing his partner's nose.

“Thanks. Tomorrow you're doing all the work.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You don't seriously think I can go again, do you?” John asks incredulously, his eyes nearly bulging.

“You're not _that_ old, John.” Sherlock replies with a smirk.

“Hey! You cheeky sod. I'm not _old_ full stop.” John frowns, slapping Sherlock's shoulder.

“Well, going off what just happened, you've still got it.”

“You were a virgin, for all you know I could have been shit.” John smirks, throwing his arm over Sherlock's chest.

“And I'm glad I let _you_ change that.” Sherlock smiles softly, leaning in to kiss John.

John kisses back forcefully, making the innocent kiss more passionate. Sherlock moans when John slips his tongue into his mouth and explores it thoroughly.

“I promise next time, there'll be more foreplay.” John grins wickedly, winking at Sherlock.

“I look forward to it, John.”

“Good. Now, let's get cleaned up.” John replies, quickly kissing Sherlock and leaning over to pick up his vest.

He quickly scrubs Sherlock before scrubbing himself down and throwing the vest across the room.

“Bed time, baby.” John smiles softly, bringing the covers over them both and snuggling into Sherlock's side.

“I love you, John. I knew that from the minute I saw you. Illogical isn't it? The thought of love at first sight. Especially with someone who had just buried their partner.” Sherlock rambles on aimlessly.

“An' I love you too, _Sher._ ” John replies sleepily.

Sherlock smiles just as a yawn takes over him and he looks down at his partner, “Goo'night, my luv.” He replies sleepily, snuggling down next to John and kissing his forehead.

Sleep overcomes him and for once, Sherlock lets it happen; spent and truly content in John's arms.

“Easy 's that.” John murmurs softly in response, leaning up to kiss Sherlock's chin before drifting fully to sleep.

x..x

“What the … hell, are you doing?” John asks as he gets up the stairs.

“Bored.” Sherlock drawls, slouched in the chair with the gun dangling in his hand.

“What?”

“BORED!” Sherlock shouts, jumping up and shooting the wall again. “BORED! BORED! BORED!” He continues to shout, punctuating each word with a bullet to the wall.

John covers his ears with each shot and then walks over to grab the gun off Sherlock.

“Do you always have to act like a child?” John replies, clicking the safety back on on the gun.

“I'm not.” Sherlock whines, proving his point by flopping himself dramatically onto the couch.

“Of course not.” John mutters to himself.

“I'm bored, John! There's no cases! None! Oh, why don't we have sex, John.”

“No, Sherlock.”

“What? Why?”

“I will not use sex to cure you're boredom.”

“Fine, I'll just shoot the wall again.”

“No you bloody won't! You could have woken Ana up.”

Right on cue, Mrs Hudson calls up the stairs and John can already hear his daughter’s cries.

“Correction, you _have_ woke her up. Come up, Mrs Hudson.”

“NO!” Sherlock exclaims, snapping his head back to look at John.

“Sherlock! Don't be like that! She's my daughter!”

“I can't take screaming babies, _John_!”

“Tough, _Sherlock._ She's my daughter and _surprisingly_ , her needs are more important than yours.”

“Fine.” Sherlock snaps, turning to face the back of the couch.

“Here you go, dear. I'm sorry about this.” The landlady apologises, handing Ana over to John.

“Not a problem, Mrs Hudson. Thank you for babysitting.” He smiles, pecking her on the cheek.

“Any time, dear.” She smiles back before exiting the room.

“Here.” John says to Sherlock, grabbing his shoulder to turn him round and place the baby in his arms. “You can calm her down.”

And with that, John storms to the kitchen to make a brew.

“But John …”

“Shut it, Sherlock.” John snaps, clicking the kettle on.

“If I calm her down can we have sex?” Sherlock calls from the couch, cradling Ana in his arms.

“No. No sex for a week for shooting the walls. We've had this discussion before, Sherlock and you never listen. Maybe you will if I stop you giving what you want.”

“But Jawn, I really need it. I keep getting … _reactions_ when I see you. When you get out the shower, when you bend over, when you kiss me … I just remember our first time and it makes me want you.”

“Tough.”

“Please, _Jawn._ ”

“I told you no, Sherlock. That's final.” John replies, storming back into the living room.

“Even you being angry is making me want you.” Sherlock whines, curling back up to face the back of the couch.

“Well then, _behave_.” John replies, before heading back into the kitchen to finish his brew.

x..x

“SHERLOCK! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE NOW?!” John screams from the bottom of the stairs.

“John, dear, what ever is the matter? Is there really need to shout so loud about it?” Mrs Hudson asks softly, touching John's shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Mrs Hudson, I really am. But, you might want to stay down here for a while. Because I'm going to BLOODY KILL YOU, SHERLOCK!” John replies, storming up the stairs.

“I'll turn my tele up then, dear.” Mrs Hudson calls, tottering back into her flat.

“Why are you shouting, John?” Sherlock drawls, slouched across the couch.

“What have you done to Mycroft?! He's just texted me saying that Greg's stormed out and it's because of YOU!”

“Obviously.”

“Never mind bloody _obviously_!” John exclaims, dragging Sherlock up off the couch by his lapels and pinning him to the wall. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Sherlock has the decency to look _genuinely_ stunned before recomposing himself, “I just texted him saying that Mycroft doesn't _love_ anyone. He should end it before he gets to attached too Mycroft. Obviously, I was correct.”

“YOU DID WHAT?! SHERLOCK, WHY … would you do that?” John asks, his voice breaking.

“I was only thinking of Lestrade.”

“NO, Sherlock. You don't think of _anyone_ but _yourself_. Is that how you feel about us? Do you _love_ me or is this just one-sided?” John asks, tears in his eyes.

“That's different.”

“Oh! So _you_ can love somebody but your brother can't. Is that it? Right, now it all makes sense.” John replies sarcastically.

“Mycroft has never _loved_ anyone, John.” Sherlock growls.

“He _loves_ you. And he _loves_ Greg. You're just too stupid to see it.” John growls back, slamming Sherlock back against the wall.

“Ha. He doesn't love me. He's made it so plainly obvious he despises me.”

“Oh really. So Mycroft used to get drunk and throw things at you, did he? He nearly sent your mum to an early grave by staying out for days on end and nearly coming home half dead, did he? He used to get severely depressed and try killing himself, DID HE? No, because that was MY sister. That was her technique. You know, I would have _killed_ to have an older sibling like Mycroft. Someone who would protect me from an abusive father. Someone who would keep me safe when I was scared. I would have done _anything_.” John whispers the last part, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I … I didn't know, John. I ...” Sherlock whispers, bringing his hands up to John's waist, ready to pull him into a hug.

“Don't.” John growls, head snapping back up to glare at Sherlock. “Is this because I'm withholding sex? Are you trying to somehow get some _attention_?”

“Don't be an idiot, John.” Sherlock scoffs.

“Then why?!”

“I … I don't know.” Sherlock whispers, looking down at the floor.

“You know what, _fine_.” John growls and Sherlock's pretty sure he's going to get a punch from John.

Instead, John, once more, slams him against the wall but immediately drives his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, pinning the younger man to the wall with the whole force of his body and strength. The younger man moans into John's mouth so John bites his lip as punishment. This isn't about pleasure, it's about giving Sherlock what he wants in an attempt to stop him being such an insufferable prat.

“Jawn.” Sherlock moans when John realises they both need air and breaks the kiss.

“Don't, Sherlock.” John growls, “This is what you want, right? You want some stimulation. Well, I'm giving it to you, but don't you dare _think_ this means I forgive you or that we can just go back to normal. You _deliberately_ sabotaged your brother's relationship for your own pleasure. And you hurt our friend in the process.”

“I … I'm sorry, John. I … I didn't realise.” Sherlock stutters, trying to find the right words.

“Don't apologise to me, Sherlock! Apologise to your brother and Greg. Its them that you've hurt.” John replies sadly, pulling away from Sherlock.

“John.”

“I'm going to bed, Sherlock. I suggest you _ring_ your brother and apologise.” John replies, heading for the door.

“John,” Sherlock starts, grabbing John's arm and turning him round. “I _do_ love you. I really do. You're the better side of me.” He continues, pulling John closer.

“Apologise to Mycroft and we'll see what happens.” John replies coldly, pulling away from Sherlock.

Sherlock pulls out his mobile and dials his brother's number.

x..x

_Thanks, mate._

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_So Sherlock apologised then?_

_JW_  

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Yeah, how did you get him to do that?_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_That would be telling._

_JW_  

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

_Doesn't matter anyway. Thanks_

_GL_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

 

“Who are you texting?” Sherlock asks, suspiciously. 

“Greg.” John replies simply, not looking up at the younger man.

 

_No worries, mate_

_JW_

**_MESSAGE SENT_ **

****

“Is everything alright with them?” Sherlock asks cautiously, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“So now you care?” John snaps slightly.

“Yes. I was wrong, and I … shouldn't have messed with their relationship. Please, forgive me.” Sherlock whispers, looking down at the bedsheets.

John rolls his eyes and sighs, “Come here you, silly git.”

He pulls the younger man into his arms, kissing his mess of curls and breathing in the scent of the younger man.

“Do you still love me?” Sherlock whispers into John's chest.

“Of course I do, baby. Just because we argue, it doesn't mean I don't love you anymore.” John replies gently, stroking Sherlock's curls.

“Good, because I love you too.” Sherlock whispers, gripping John tightly.

“Come on, darling, let's get to bed.”

“Okay.” Sherlock replies without argument, climbing under the covers and pulling John close to him.

John pulls Sherlock even closer, allowing the younger man to rest his head on the doctor's chest.

“Goodnight, John. Sleep well.”

“You too, baby.” John smiles, kissing Sherlock's forehead.


	10. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock discuss a few things before they take Ariana to the park.  
> And Sherlock discovers what he really needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait with this one. I had writers block and I didn't want it to be crap. I hope this is okay xxxxx

“Good morning, John.” Sherlock smiles, handing the sleepy doctor a cup of tea.

“Mornin' Sher.” John replies sleepily, taking the cup from the younger man, “What's this for?”

“An apology. For the way I've been acting.” Sherlock whispers, looking at the floor.

“Oh. Um, thank you, Sher.” John smiles softly, leaning in to kiss the younger man.

Sherlock takes the cup from John's hand and puts it down on the table, wrapping his arms around John's waist to hold him better.

John brings his hands up to Sherlock's curls and pulls his head down slightly, kissing the younger man deeper; causing a soft moan to slip from his lips. John smiles softly, rubbing soothing circles in Sherlock's scalp and feeling the younger man relax into the touch.

“Idiot.” John smiles fondly, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock smiles in response, bringing his hand up to meet Johns'.

“Lestrade said there are no interesting cases yet, so we could take Ana to the park. If you want that is.” Sherlock whispers, his arm still wrapped around John.

“That would be nice.” John replies softly, still smiling at the younger man.

“After breakfast.” Sherlock adds, moving away from John to head back to the kitchen.

“So I'm making it then?” John grins, watching as the younger man sits at the table and waits as patiently as a child.

“Obviously.” Sherlock smirks, sipping at his tea.

“Go get Ana then. She'll be due a feed.”

Sherlock smiles brightly before disappearing to the bedroom to get the little girl.

“Hello, Ana. I bet you're hungry, aren't you?” Sherlock says softly to the sleepy baby.

Ariana makes a sound in reply as Sherlock lifts her up out of the cot.

“Come on then, let's get you some breakfast.” Sherlock adds, resting the baby on his shoulder as he walks back to the kitchen. “I bet you can't wait until you're bigger, then you can have proper food.”

John chuckles as he listens to his partner talking to his daughter as though she can understand him.

“What are you giggling at?” Sherlock asks a little snappily, causing John to turn around to chastise his partner for speaking to his daughter so nastily.

As he turns round though, John realises the question was aimed at him, “You. What happened to 'it's pointless talking to her, John. She doesn't understand'?” He grins, handing the milk over to Sherlock.

“Yes, well, you said it's good for her to hear calm voices. And you are a doctor so you should know these things.”

“It's not about being a doctor, Sher. It's about being a parent. Everybody talks to their baby in soothing tones. It's like the unwritten manual of parenthood.” John smiles softly, stroking Ana's head gently.

“Oh.”

This little noise causes John to giggle softly and causes the younger man to glare at him.

“Do you want to feed her?” John asks, a hint of amusement still present in his tone.

“Well, you're making breakfast so I guess I'll have to.” Sherlock snaps, snatching the bottle off John.

“Yeah, and like you wouldn't have offered even if I _wasn't_ making breakfast.” John chuckles, filling Sherlock's plate with a few slices of bacon, two sausages and a few spoonfuls of beans.

“That's not the point.” Sherlock replies, failing at snapping at John.

“Of course, love.” John smiles, setting the plate down on the desk.

Sherlock smiles down at the little girl and a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“What's up with you, Mr Happy?” John asks in an amused tone.

“Nothing.” Sherlock replies, still not able to wipe the smile off his face.

“Alright.” John says, shaking his head and going back to his breakfast.

“You called me _love_.” Sherlock whispers, his smile faltering.

John pauses in his actions, looking back at Sherlock, “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I guess it's just a force of habit when you're with somebody. I didn't ...”

“No, John, it's fine. Well, it's better than fine. I … _like_ it.” Sherlock smiles, looking up at John.

“Oh, good, I guess.” John replies awkwardly, going back to his breakfast.

“Hello, boys.” Mrs Hudson greets brightly, “Aww, Sherlock, look at you. Taking to this father thing very well, aren't you?” She smiles softly, looking almost tearful with pride.

“Morning, Mrs Hudson.” John smiles, looking up at their landlady.

“Good morning, Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock smiles as well, pulling the now empty bottle away from Ariana's lips.

“Oh, John, can I hold her?” Mrs Hudson asks softly, a little excited spark in her eyes.

“If Sherlock will let you, yeah.” John grins at Sherlock; who just scowls in reply.

“Of course you can, Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock replies with a smile, handing the baby over to their landlady.

“Aww, she's beautiful. She definitely gets it from you, John. There's even that little twinkle in her eyes, like the one you get when you come back from a case.”

“I think she gets it all from her mother really, she was beautiful.” John sighs sadly, looking down at the desk.

An awkward silence falls on the flat and Sherlock stands up slowly, resting his hand on John's shoulder.

“Mrs Hudson, would you give Ana a bath and get her dressed, please?” Sherlock asks gently, looking back at her with a soft smile.

“Of course, dear.” Mrs Hudson replies with an understanding smile, “Come on, Ana, let's get you all nice and clean, shall we?” She says to the baby, smiling brightly at her.

Sherlock waits until they've left the room before kneeling down next to his partner.

“John, I'm not good at this, but I'll try to do what I can. I know that you're always going to love Mary, especially because she's the mother of your child and our … _relationship_ has only just begun so you're not going to just _get over_   the loss of your wife. And I would be wrong to ask you to, but I've never felt this way before and I'm going to need you, because I'm actually terrified. You know how fear annoys me but as long as I have you, I know I'll be okay.” He says softly, resting his hand on top of John's.

John looks as though he's about to try when he turns to look at Sherlock, but instead he just replies weakly, “Thank you, Sher. I … I don't know what to say. That was … _beautiful_. Wow, who knew you could have such a way with words without knowing it.”

“So, _that_ helped? Me just going on without any proper point?” Sherlock asks in a confused tone.

“Welcome to the world of _ordinary_ people.” John smiles a little, ruffling Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, sitting at the desk to eat his now-slightly-cold breakfast.

John raises at eyebrow at Sherlock, curiousness on his face.

“You're always pestering me to eat, so I am.” Sherlock sighs, shovelling down the food.

x..x

“Just remember to be careful with her, Sherlock.” John warns as his partner sits down on a swing with Ana in his arms.

“I'm not an _idiot_ , John.” Sherlock sighs, swinging his legs a little to move the swing.

“Of course not.” John replies with a slight smile and roll of his eyes.

“I think she likes it, John.” Sherlock smiles widely, listening to Harry giggle.

“Yeah, she does.” John smiles in return, sitting on the swing next to them and watching his daughter.

“When you're bigger, Ana, you'll be able to swing on your own.” Sherlock tells the little girl, with a wide grin.

John chuckles softly, watching his partner interact with his daughter.

“You're surprisingly good with her. Considering where you were when you first started. You're actually acting like a _dad_. I knew you could do it.” John says softly, smiling at his partner.

“Maybe it's not as bad as I thought it would be.” Sherlock replies matter-of-factly, looking up at John and trying to suppress a smile.

“You love it.” John grins, prodding his partner in the arm.

“Maybe.” Sherlock replies indifferently, before looking back at Ariana, “Shall we go on the slide, Ana?”

“Oh, this I _gotta_ see.” John grins, pulling out his phone as Sherlock runs off to the climbing frame.

John clicks on the camera button and presses record as Sherlock holds Ana tightly to his chest and slides down the slide; his Belstaff giving a little help with the sliding.

John smiles widely as Sherlock bounces back over to him.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock asks curiously, spotting the phone in John's hand.

“Nothing, love. Just checking my texts, see if Lestrade's got anything for us.” John replies innocently, quickly opening his inbox.

Sherlock looks him over suspiciously but quickly turns his attention back to Ariana; who is yawning and slumping against Sherlock.

“I think she's tired, John.”

“Yeah, she does that. Come on then, let's get her home.”

x..x

“She's out like a light.” John announces, dropping onto the couch and resting his head on the back.

“I guess we tired her out.” Sherlock replies, leaning back on the couch.

“Yeah, we did. And she's not the only ...” John breaks off, yawning loudly.

“I think it's time for bed, John.”

“It's only half seven.”

“Shall we watch tv for a while then?” Sherlock asks, picking up the remote anyway.

“Yeah. Just _no_ commentary.” John warns, pointing a finger at the younger man.

“Fine.” Sherlock replies with a long-suffering sigh.

“Good.” John smiles, putting his feet up on the couch to get comfy.

Sherlock keeps to his word and doesn't comment once, but John can tell he's just inching to; he's twitching his fingers and chewing the inside of his cheek.

John grins to himself and tries not to say anything.

After an hour, John's head falls to Sherlock's shoulder and the younger man looks over at John.

He's currently fast asleep and snoring lightly so Sherlock shifts him a little so that he can wrap an arm around John's back, while he moves the other under John's legs.

He should probably take John up to his room but he doesn't want to risk dropping his partner, so instead he lies him carefully down on his own bed before going upstairs to grab the baby monitor.

Once he's got that, Sherlock puts it down on the table and curls up to watch some more tv for a while.

x..x

“I _actually_ need my bed.” Sherlock sighs to himself.

When did he become so pedestrian? Or maybe it's the doctor in his bed that makes him _need_ it. After weeks of closeness and curling up on the couch watching tv until John's goes back to his own room, Sherlock _needs_ the doctor in his arms and in his bed.

He picks up the remote and turns the tv off, heading back to his room. Sherlock stops at the door, watching John sleep so peacefully. He smiles softly, climbing into bed behind John, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the older man and breathing in his scent.

John makes a sound in his sleep and Sherlock freezes, until John turns onto his back and guides Sherlock's head down to his chest, resting his hand in his curls.

Sherlock sighs softly, curling into John and throwing a leg over his partner's.

 _This is just what I need._ Sherlock thinks, sighing one last time before succumbing to sleep for once.


	11. Four Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariana learns to crawl and Sherlock is very excited about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update on this. I've already got the next chapter in progress but I might put a case in between just to make it realistic xxxx

“John, you have to see this! Come on, get up!” Sherlock exclaims excitedly, shaking John awake.

“Mm, sleep.” John mumbles, curling back up under the covers.

“Oh, come on, John! You'll want to see this!” Sherlock exclaims, pulling John's hand roughly.

“Fine. C'min now.” John mumbles, dragging himself up out of bed.

“Hurry!” Sherlock calls, running back to the living room.

“What's wrong?” John asks sleepily, following an excitable Sherlock to the living room.

“Just ssh, John.” Sherlock snaps before turning to the little girl, “Ana, come here. Come on, Ana. Come to Uncle Sherlock.” 

John smiles softly at his partner; who's clearly oblivious to the natural adoration he has for the little girl.

His smile soon turns into a look of shock as his daughter crawls from the fire place into Sherlock's arms.

“Did you see, John? Did you see that!” Sherlock exclaims excitedly, looking up at his partner with a wide grin.

“I did. Yes, I did. She hasn't crawled that far before. Wow.”

“I know, isn't she … What do you mean she hasn't crawled that far before? You knew she could crawl and you _didn't_ tell me!” Sherlock snaps, looking offended.

“Sher, it was only a few days ago and we were working a case. You were in your mind palace for most of that time. I'm sorry. You were just busy.” John replies softly, stroking his partner's curls.

“So I missed her first steps?” Sherlock asks sadly.

“Not yet you haven't. She's just learnt to crawl, but in a couple more months she'll learn to walk. _And_ I'll make sure you see it with me, okay.”

“It's a date, John.” Sherlock replies with a smile, still holding onto Ariana.

“Come on, let's get this little one fed, shall we?” John smiles, picking up Ariana out of Sherlock's arms and walking to the kitchen. “Can you believe she's seven months old already. It only feels like yesterday when we had to carry her around. You won't stop her moving now. You'll have to keep a closer eye on her while I'm at work, otherwise she'll disappear.”

“We'll have to get a safety gate, won't we?” Sherlock suggests, pulling Ariana's food out of the cupboard and pouring it into a bowl.

“Yeah, we will. We'll go shopping at weekend, okay?”

“Yes, definitely.” Sherlock agrees, lifting the plastic spoon to Ana's mouth.

“Right, I'm gonna go for a shower and then I'll have to get ready for work.” John smiles sweetly, kissing Sherlock's forehead before disappearing from the room.

x..x

“So, how's Ana doing?” The young woman asks sweetly, bringing John a cup of streaming hot tea.

“Cheers.” John replies gratefully, taking the offered cup and inhaling deeply, “Yeah, she's doing great. She's just started crawling and Sherlock's acting like it's the most amazing thing in the world.”

“So, he's really taking to this whole 'being a dad' thing then?” Sarah asks with a smile, not an inch of bitterness in her tone, just curiosity.

“Yeah, he is. I'm surprised really. He's grown in confidence in the last few months. When I first left him with Ana he was really worried, now I just have to tell him I'm off to work and leave him to it.”

“Aww, well that's good then. I'll bet he'll be overjoyed when she can talk. He'll be able to do his deducing and have someone to listen while you're away.” Sarah teases lightly, a soft giggle escaping.

“He'll be even more insufferable then. He'll have her learning all sorts of facts by the end of the week.” John jokes, laughing softly.

“Well, I best leave you to your patients. Your first should be here in five minutes. See you later, John.”  Sarah smiles softly, giving a little nod before leaving the room.

“See ya later.” John calls back with a smile, setting his brew down and pulling out his schedule.

x..x

Two hours later and all John wants to do is go home and be with his little family, but he still have five more patients and a long cab ride home before he can.

“John.” Sarah greets with a smile, her head poking around the door.

“Hey, what's up?” John asks brightly, looking up at the young nurse.

“Why don't you go home and I'll take the rest of your patients.” She offers sweetly, giving an understanding look.

“I can't do that, it wouldn't be fair on you, Sarah.”

“John, every time I've walked passed your open door, you've been fiddling with your phone. Clearly, you want to get home and spend some time with Ana and Sherlock. I've no patients left to see so I can take yours without any trouble.” She smiles reassuringly.

“It's fine, Sarah, only five left and then I can leave. Besides, I've barely done a full shift since Ana came along.” John smiles back, a little guilty.

“These are the most important months of a child's life. You don't want to go home one day and find you've missed her first steps or her first words. They're moments that you can't get back, John. Besides, we can manage here. We're not exactly rushed off our feet, are we? Now, go on, get going.” Sarah replies, a mock stern tone which leaves John knowing there is no way to argue.

“I'll pay you back for this, Sarah, I swear.” John promises, pulling on his coat and collecting up his files.

“Oh, you just make sure you take lots of pictures and show me them. Then we'll be even.” Sarah smiles, taking the files John hands to her.

“I will.” He smiles back, kissing her on the cheek. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Bye, John.” Sarah smiles once more, before calling the next patient to her office.

x..x

“I'm back!” John calls happily, hanging up his coat.

“Oh, John, dear, that Sarah must be a saint for letting you finish early all the time. I hope you're grateful.” Mrs Hudson replies, her serious tone slipping as a smile graces her features.

“Oh, more than, Mrs Hudson. So, how have my little loves been?” He smiles back at her, giving her a warm hug.

“They've been brilliant. I checked to make sure they were okay and, Sherlock has fed her at regular intervals, he's changed her twice and last time I checked, she was having her afternoon nap.” Mrs Hudson replies with a warm smile, her pride showing in her features and tones.

“Brilliant. Well, I'll see you later then. I'll come get you when she wakes then she can see her Nana Martha, alright?” John grins, heading up the stairs.

“You're such a darling, John. And I'll be sure to see my little sweetheart later. Just you try and stop me.” She says with a grin, heading back into her flat.

“Sherlock, I'm home.” John says as he enters the flat.

“Ah, John, you're back. And earlier than usual. Did Sarah catch you moping over Ana then?” Sherlock greets brightly, a teasing tone to his voice.

“I was not _moping_ , I just miss you guys when I'm gone.” John replies sternly, kissing Sherlock's cheek.

Despite the fact that the two men are _officially_ a couple, Sherlock is shocked at John including him in the things he misses when he's away.

“You missed me?” Sherlock asks without thinking.

“Of course I missed you, ya daft sod, I love you. And couples miss each other when they're away.” John replies with a grin, checking the fridge for body parts.

He's silently surprised when he finds only food in there and closes the door gratefully.

“I missed you too, John. _We_ missed you.” Sherlock amends, still not used to sentiment.

“Aww, thank you.” John replies with a loving smile, kissing Sherlock softly.

Sherlock smiles in response and blushes a little.

“See, I knew you'd get it.” John grins, slumping down onto the couch.

“Get what, John?” Sherlock asks confused, turning to look at his partner.

“Sentiment.” John replies simply, patting the seat next to him.

Sherlock nods in agreement and slumps down on the couch; his head in John's lap and feet hanging over the arm of the couch.

John pats his hair gently, listening to Sherlock's soft purr and smiling lovingly at the younger man.

“I love you, ya know. I never meant to, but I'm glad I did.” John whispers, still stroking Sherlock's hair.

“I love you too, John. I did from the moment I met you, as sentimental and silly as it sounds.” Sherlock replies distractedly, relaxing more into John's touch.

“I like sentimental Sherlock. He's lovely.”

“Shut up, John.” Sherlock replies, a hint of a smile on his lips.


	12. The Red-Headed League

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John look into a mysterious case called The Red-Headed League.  
> But soon Sherlock discovers something more interesting that the mysterious case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY loosely based on The Adventure Of The Red-Headed League. I've never been more grateful for my complete works of Sherlock Holmes in my life; it's a great reference tool.  
> I wanted to use a case that hasn't been used before and this was really fun to do so enjoy xxxxxx

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” John asks curiously, looking up from the newspaper he's reading.

Sherlock; who is currently sat on the floor, looks back at John and replies, “I'm trying to get Ana to walk, obviously.”

“Yes, _obviously_.” John chuckles, going back to his newspaper and tea.

Sherlock's phone buzzes across the table and John picks it up automatically, “Lestrade. He says he has a case. And it's an eight this time. Well, time to go then.”

“But what about Ariana?”

“We'll leave her with Mrs Hudson.”

“Right, come on, Ana. Let's go to Nana Martha.” Sherlock smiles, picking the little girl up and heading downstairs.

x..x

“Ah, guys, glad you could make it. How's Ariana?” Lestrade greets the two men as they enter the crime scene.

“She's great, yeah. She started to crawl a few weeks ago and now Sherlock is trying to get her to walk.” John grins at the older man, nudging Sherlock slightly.

“Oh, bloody hell. I'll bet you'll have fun then.” Lestrade replies, giving John a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, we will ...”

“If you two are quite finished, we have a crime scene to work.” Sherlock snaps, breezing past the two men.

“Yes, you're right.” Lestrade agrees, following Sherlock to the body, “So, we found this man about a half hour ago. As you can see, the most distinctive thing about him is his red hair ...”

“Why is that distinctive?” John asks, kneeling down next to the body.

“Well, because two other men with red hair have also been murdered. And the one thing they all have in common is they were all a part of a group called 'The Red-Headed League'. But, the unusual thing is, we can't find such a group existing."

“Then how do you know they were all a part of it?” Sherlock asks coldly, not looking up from the body.

“Because they all had a card. Well, a sort of membership card for this group.” Lestrade replies, handing the card over to Sherlock.

“So, a mysterious group that apparently doesn't exist but has business cards. And no phone number or any other contact details. Interesting.” Sherlock replies, flicking the card over in his hands repeatedly.

“Definitely an eight on your scale, right, Sherlock?” Lestrade asks with a triumphant grin.

Sherlock hums in agreement, “John?”

“Well, cause of death was strangulation.” John replies, inspecting the bruise on the victim's neck. “What about the others?”

“All strangled. But, other than that, nothing to identify the killer.” Lestrade replies, checking the files.

“You're right. No fingerprints, no stray hairs and no footprints around the area.” John agrees, looking around the scene.

“Very interesting indeed.” Sherlock murmurs, looking over the body. “Any witnesses?”

“None. It's like the guy just appeared here.”

“No ID?” Sherlock asks, checking the victims pockets.

“No, that's why I called you in.” Lestrade replies, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Go home, Lestrade. You can't work a case on only four hours sleep in three days.” Sherlock interrupts, looking the DI up and down.

 “I can't. I have to work, Sherlock.” Lestrade sighs in exasperation.

“I'll be able to work the case while you get some rest. We all know I'm more than able.” Sherlock replies, smiling at the DI.

“You sure?”

“Just go, Lestrade.” Sherlock replies, waving him away.

“Don't need to tell me twice.” Lestrade smiles, handing the files to Donovan.

“Sir, you're not _actually_ going to leave us with the _Freak_ , are you?”

“Hey! Back off, Donovan. Without Sherlock, you'd have three dead bodies and no leads.” John snaps, standing up and immediately going into soldier mode.

“Oi, who yanked your chain? Stay out of this.” Donovan snaps back.

“Not when it involves my friends, Donovan. Now, do you want Sherlock to help with this case or not?” John replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine. But keep _him_ on a leash.” Donovan retorts, stalking away.

“I think we should go, Sherlock.” John replies, turning back to his partner.

“John, you didn't have to do that.” Sherlock whispers, ignoring John's statement.

“It's fine. I can't let people put you down unfairly.”

“Still, you shouldn't have.” Sherlock replies, standing up and walking closer to his partner.

“Oh, sorry.” John apologises unsurely, looking away from Sherlock.

“But I'm glad you did.” Sherlock smiles, looking around before kissing John's cheek.

“Oh.” John smiles, blushing at his partner's public display of affection.

“Let's go, John.” Sherlock continues, heading back to the main road.

John smiles and nods before following after Sherlock.

x..x

“So, we have three dead red-heads and a group that apparently doesn't exist. You got any theories?” John sighs, slumping down into his chair with his fifth cup of tea.

“A few, but none that fit completely. I think it's time I tried a different approach.” Sherlock replies, sitting down at the desk and tapping away on his laptop.

“What you thinking?” John asks, sitting forward in his chair.

“I'm going to post about The Red-Headed League and see who replies.”

“Good idea. And then we just wait?”

“I'm afraid so, John.” Sherlock sighs, leaning back after he's finished typing.

“You hungry? Because I'm starving.” John says, his stomach rumbling to prove his point.

“Yeah, might as well.” Sherlock replies distractedly, shocking John.

“So you're actually going to _eat_ something?” John asks, stunned.

“Don't make me repeat myself, John.” Sherlock sighs, looking up at his partner.

John just smiles to himself before walking over to Sherlock and kissing him on the forehead.

Sherlock lifts his head up to meet John's lips with his own; kissing his partner softly.

“Thank you, John.” Sherlock whispers, giving John his most affectionate smile.

“No worries, love.” John smiles back, stroking Sherlock's cheek, “I'll be back soon, alright?”

“Alright.” Sherlock replies with a nod, looking back at his screen.

x..x

“Hello, Doctor Watson?” A red-headed man greets the doctor awkwardly.

“Hi, yes, that's me. And you are?” John greets back, holding a hand out for the man to shake.

“Jabez Wilson, nice to meet you.” The man replies, shaking John's hand.

“What can I do for you?”

“I saw Mr Holmes' post on his website; _The Science Of Deduction_. As soon as I read it, I decided to make my way to Baker Street but I saw you and recognised you immediately. Are you on your way back?”

“Yes, I am. Do you want to come back with me?” John offers, grabbing the Chinese take away and heading for the door.

“That's great, thank you.” Jabez replies with a slight smile.

x..x

“Sherlock! I think I've just found a new lead. Or more like he found me.” John calls up the stairs to the younger man.

“What do you mean _he_ found you?” Sherlock snaps, standing at the top of the stairs.

“This is Jabez Wilson, he read your post. He was heading here when he saw me. Come on up, mate.” John replies before heading up the stairs. “Be nice.” He warns Sherlock as he makes his way to the living room.

“Hi, pleasure to meet you, Mr Holmes.” Jabez greets, holding a hand out to Sherlock.

“Sherlock, please.” Sherlock smiles, shaking the man's hand. “So, you saw my post.” He adds, walking back into the living room and sitting in his chair.

“Yes, I did. I knew something must be wrong because The League is an exclusive group. Or I thought it was ...” Jabez replies, taking the seat John offers.

“What can you tell me, Mr Wilson?” Sherlock asks, leaning forward in his chair.

“Well, you see, there was a notice for a position in The League in the paper. My assistant noticed it before me. So, I went to apply for the job and was in a long line of other red-heads, but the curious thing is, _I_ was the only one hired. Apparently it was because my hair was the perfect shade, whereas all the other had been too light or too dark. Now, the business has been struggling for some time and I was doing some PR work when I wasn't working at my pawn shop. But one day, I went in and there was a sign saying that the league had been dissolved. What is even more curious is that when I went to the land lord to ask him what had happened, he said that he'd never even heard of Duncan Ross; the guy who ran the group but he said he _had_ met a red-headed man who had a business card for an artificial knee company.”

“So, a club that doesn't exist but someone hired you. Now that is interesting.” Sherlock mutters, steep-ling his fingers in front of his mouth in thought.

“Can you help?” Jabez asks desperately.

“Of course I can. It will be solved by Monday, Mr Wilson.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Mr Holmes. Thank you. And you too, Doctor Watson. Oh, and here is a photo of Mr Spaulding, my assistant.” Jabez replies excitedly, jumping up from his seat and shaking Sherlock's hand furiously.

“Not a problem and thank you.”

x..x

“So, do you have any theories _now_?” John asks with a smile, finally setting out the Chinese he picked up earlier.

“Let's go pay a visit to Mr Spaulding, John.” Sherlock replies, grabbing his coat and handing John his.

“Right.”

“We're going back out, Mrs Hudson. Not sure when we'll be back.” Sherlock calls, as he opens the door.

“You boys be careful.” Mrs Hudson replies, poking her head out of her door.

“We will.” John assures her, before disappearing after Sherlock; who has already hailed down a taxi.

John climbs into the car after Sherlock.

“So, do you know where this Mr Spaulding is?” John asks, a hint of a smile gracing his features.

“Yes, Mr Wilson left me the address as well as a name.”

“So, where we heading?”

“Saxe-Coburg Square. Where the pawn shop is.”

“Alright.” John replies with a smile.

x..x

“Mr Spaulding, I presume. Sherlock Holmes and my friend, Doctor Watson.” Sherlock greets the man with a smile.

“Ah, well, come on in, Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson.” Spaulding replies with a smile, stepping aside to let the men enter.

“Thank you.” Sherlock nods, walking into the main shop.

“What is this about?” Spaulding asks curiously, moving back behind the counter.

“Do you know anything about The Red-Headed League?”

“Why, yes I do. I handed a notice to Mr Wilson about it. I thought it might be a great opportunity for him. Why?”

“Well, I have reason to believe that it was a scam.” Sherlock replies matter-of-factly.

“You do?” Both Spaulding and John ask in a confused tone.

“Yes, I do. You see, you have dirt on your trousers. You've tried to scrub it out but you can't. The fact that it's on your knees suggests that you were kneeling down when it was transferred. The same dirt is in on this floor also. So, what was your plan?”

“Our plan, Mr Holmes, has already been in motion.” A man interrupts, appearing from the back room. “And we will not be stopped by some _amateur_.”

“Ha, I'm far from _amateur_ , Mr Ross. If that is even your real name.”

“Well, it doesn't matter now, Mr Holmes, because you and Doctor Watson will be dead before you can tell anyone our plan.” Ross smiles cruelly, pulling out a gun and pointing it at the two men.

“And what is that, exactly?” Sherlock asks calmly.

“We've been using Wilson's pawn shop to dig a tunnel into the bank vault. The Red-Headed League was a _perfect_ way to get Wilson out of the way while we worked. And Spaulding was a great help with that.”

“An ingenious plan, it's just a shame it didn't work.” Sherlock smiles back, waiting for the cavalry.

Right on cue, Lestrade breaks through the door with two officers in tow, all pointing guns at Spaulding and Ross.

“Put it down, Ross! I won't hesitate to shoot!” Lestrade growls, standing between his two friends and Ross.

“How did you know it was me?” Ross asks angrily, glaring at Sherlock.

“Because Duncan Ross doesn't exist. You used the name of a character from a book; a personal favourite of mine, actually. You're real name is John Clay. I was originally looking up the owner of the building and found a wrap sheet of criminal activity; multiple robberies, break ins and even extortion. Quite a list, Mr Clay.” Sherlock replies coolly, a smug smile appearing on his face.

“Damn you, Sherlock Holmes!” Clay exclaims as Lestrade disarms the man and handcuffs his arms behind his back.

“Lestrade, we'll being going now. You're welcome.” Sherlock informs the DI, flashing a smile at him.

“Yeah, thanks, Sherlock.” Lestrade replies with difficulty, wrestling to stop Clay from struggling.

x..x

“Well, that was fun.” John says with a grin, sitting down on the couch.

“Indeed it was, John.” Sherlock agrees with a smirk, plopping gracefully down next to John.

“You're brilliant, do you know that? Absolutely genius. I would never have come to that conclusion in a million years.” John chuckles, looking over at his partner.

“As ever, John, you see but do not observe.” Sherlock replies smugly, collapsing into John's lap.

“This is becoming more frequent, ya know.” John grins down at his partner.

“What is?” Sherlock asks curiously, eyeing John with suspicion.

“You curling up in my lap.” John replies with a smug smile, ruffling Sherlock's curls.

“And?”

“And, it's nice. I like it.”

“Good.”

“Ah, boys, I thought I heard you come in. I just thought I'd bring Ana back. I know how much you boys miss her when you're away.” Mrs Hudson interrupts, appearing at the door.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson. You're a life saver for looking after her.” John replies with a sweet smile as she hands over the little girl.

“It's no problem, dear, I love looking after the little darling. Oh, did you know she's crawling more now? I think she'll be walking soon. She seems to be learning fast.” Mrs Hudson smiles proudly, clasping her hands together at her chest.

“Yeah, that should be fun.” John replies sarcastically, a little smile forming.

“I bet it will. Anyway, I'll leave you three alone now. Have a nice night boys.” Mrs Hudson says cheerfully, before making her way down the stairs.

“Such a clever girl, aren't you, Ana?” John asks his daughter, sitting her on Sherlock's chest and leaning her against John's.

“Well she does have a _reasonably_ intelligent father.” Sherlock replies with a smug smile.

“Shut it, you.” John snaps back affectionately, smiling softly at his partner.

Sherlock chuckles in reply, laying the little girl down on his chest and smiling widely as she starts to crawl up and poke Sherlock's nose.

“That's my girl.” John replies proudly, stroking Ariana's back.

Ariana looks back at her dad before pushing back onto her feet and standing; Sherlock holding her hips to stop her from falling. But Ana pushes on Sherlock's hands and turns unsteadily towards her dad, taking two steps and snuggling against his chest.

“Did she just walk?” Sherlock asks in a bewildered tone, eyeing the little girl.

“I don't know. Jump up and sit by the fireplace. I'll sit on the floor here.”

“Why?”

“We'll see if she can walk to you and then back to me.” John replies excitedly, lifting his daughter up to his shoulder so Sherlock can climb off the couch.

Sherlock sits down by the fire place and waits for John to sit on the floor.

John holds Ariana up before saying, “Go to Sherlock. Go on, sweetheart, you can do it.”

Ariana sways for a moment before taking a few tentative steps and looking back at John.

“Go on, Ana.”

“Come on, Ana. Come to me, come on. You can do it.” Sherlock whispers softly, holding his arms out for her.

Ariana takes a few more tentative steps before dropping to her hands; clearly still learning to walk more than a few steps.

She stands up straight again and this time, takes five or six steps before she has to touch the floor again.

Finally, after fifteen or so steps, she flops into Sherlock's waiting arms as the young man holds her tight; whispering praise in her little ears.

John sits back against the couch, watching Sherlock cuddling his daughter before coming to a decision.

“Do you want to adopt her?”

“Why do we need to adopt her? She's your daughter, John.” Sherlock replies, looking up at his partner.

“ _No,_ I mean, do _you_ want to adopt her? Be her legal guardian as well as me?” John rephrases, looking at Sherlock with a questioning gaze.

“Well … I … I don't know, John ...”

“It's alright if you don't, you can still be her uncle.”

“No, I mean, you would _actually_ want me to have a legal parent-ship over her?”

“Of course I would. You're so good with her. Why not?”

“I'd love to, John.” Sherlock smiles shyly, a blush creeping up his cheeks, “Go to daddy, Ana. Go on, you can do it.” He whispers to the little girl, pointing her back in the direction of John.

This time, it only takes her eleven steps to get back to her dad; her arms stretched wide in a clear invitation for a hug.

“That's my girl.” John smiles affectionately, scooping his daughter up his arms and sitting her in his lap. “Come over here, you. Come sit with us.”

Sherlock doesn't argue, just obliges and flops down next to his partner.

“I love you, Sher.” John whispers softly, turning to kiss his partner.

“I love you too, John.” Sherlock whispers back, resting his head against John's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you all think about John's decision? Hope you liked it xxxxx


	13. Ariana's First Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock teaches Ariana some new words to impress John and discovers John has done the same.  
> Sherlock also finds the adoption papers from their previous conversation.  
> Does Sherlock still want to adopt Ana?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So despite what I said, I've managed to finish this and bring it to a nice end too. Enjoy xxxxx

“Sherlock! Sherlock, get in here! Now!” John calls from the living room, excitement and pride evident in his tone.

This does nothing to calm Sherlock as he runs to the living room frantically.

“What is it? Are you alright, John?” He asks breathlessly, patting his partner down to check any damage.

“I'm fine, ya silly sod. I called you to watch Ana.” John teases lightly, a grin on his face.

“Are you going out?” Sherlock asks curiously, sounding a little disappointed.

“What? No, look.” John grins wider, pointing to his daughter on the couch.

Sherlock does as he's told and looks at Ariana with a soft smile.

The little eleven month old prods at her pop-up book and speaks softly.

“Dada, mooo.” She mimics, holding up the book at the picture of a cow.

“She … She said _dada_?” Sherlock asks softly, looking back at John; who nods in reply, “But I was teaching her to say daddy. I wanted to surprise you by teaching her some words. Obviously, I didn't do a successful job.” He adds sadly, looking defeated.

“You … _taught_ her to say daddy? Sherlock, that's … brilliant.” John replies excitedly, grinning from ear to ear.

“It is?” Sherlock asks in confusion.

“Did you read a book or speak to Mrs Hudson? How did you figure it out?” John asks, now verging on giddy.

“I just wanted her to talk. I wanted someone to talk to while you weren't here so I tried getting her to repeat me but it didn't work. So I bought her that book and pointed at the different animals and, well … I made noises.” Sherlock replies, whispering the last part as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“Absolutely brilliant.” John smiles softly, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck and kissing him. “Now, watch this.”

“John, I don't ...” Sherlock starts, only to be stopped by John's look.

“Ana, who's dada?” John asks the little girl softly.

“Dada!” Ariana replies excitedly, pointing at John.

“Well done, sweetheart. Now, what about papa?”

“John, I already taught her ...” Sherlock sighs, breaking off when John puts a finger to his lips.

“Papa!” Ariana exclaims, pointing at Sherlock.

Sherlock just stares at her, suddenly speechless and trying to get his thoughts in order.

“That's right, my darling. Good girl.” John smiles brightly, patting her head gently and letting his daughter go back to her book. “I taught her a few things too. I … hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not, John. But, are you _sure_?”

“Of course I am. She'll know of her mother and that she loved her very much, but she needs a family. And I want _you_ to be a part of that.” John replies softly, walking back over to Sherlock and holding him close.

“Thank you, John. For giving me exactly what I need.” Sherlock whispers, kissing John sweetly.

“You're welcome, Sher. So, what else did you teach our little girl?”

“Um, well … I taught her a lot of things.” Sherlock replies awkwardly, before looking back at Ariana, “Ana, what noise does a pig make?”

“Onk, onk.” Ana smiles, pointing to the particular farm animal in her book.

John chuckles before sitting down on the couch and pulling Ana into his lap, before motioning for Sherlock to join them.

Sherlock smiles, sitting down next to John and leaning in close.

“What's this, Ana?” John asks, pointing to a duck in the girl's book.

“Duck. Quack, quack.” Ana replies, looking up at her daddy for approval.

“Well done, darling. And this?” John asks, pointing to a horse.

“Oh, I didn't teach her that one.” Sherlock interrupts softly, blushing slightly.

“It's alright, love. This is a horse, Ana. Can you say horse?”

“Hor-s.” Ana replies tentatively.

“That's right. Do you know anymore?”

“Doggy.” Ana says happily, pointing at the border collie in the picture.

“Correct again, Ana.”

“But I didn't teach her that either.” Sherlock whines slightly, looking up at John.

“Hello, boys. Aww, is Ana still reading her book? We had fun the other day, didn't we, dear?” Mrs Hudson says softly, looking at Ariana with mother-like adoration.

Ana nods happily, waving her book at the landlady.

“So you taught her 'dog' then?” John asks with a smile as Mrs Hudson sits down in the armchair.

“Of course I did, dear. We also learnt rabbit, cat, sheep and farm.” Mrs Hudson smiles brightly.

“Sheep, wabbit, cat, farm.” Ana repeats, pointing to each in turn.

“Well done, sweetheart. You're so clever.” Sherlock replies, stroking Ana's head.

John looks up at his partner and smiles softly, meeting his gaze when the younger man feels John's eyes on him.

“I'll be off then.” Mrs Hudson says with a grin, walking out the door.

“You really _are_ a genius.” John says softly, reaching over to cup Sherlock's face.

“And you really _are_ wonderful, John.” Sherlock smiles, leaning in to kiss John.

“Dada.” Ariana interrupts, hands reaching up to John.

“What's up, Princess?” John asks sweetly, opening his arms to allow his daughter to crawl up his chest.

“Hug.” Ariana replies, wrapping her little arms around John's neck.

John chuckles and hugs his daughter tightly, watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye.

Sherlock smiles softly and rests his head on John's shoulder.

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” John asks his sleepy daughter.

Ariana snuggles closer into his chest in reply.

“Come on then, let's get you to bed.” John smiles, standing up and heading to the bedroom, “I'll be back in a moment, love.” He adds, looking back to his partner.

Sherlock smiles in response, standing up and shuffling through the papers on the desk.

He stops when he spots a very interesting one, almost forgetting what John had mentioned three months previously.

“Hey.” John whispers, leaning against the door frame.

“You picked up the forms?” Sherlock asks in a whisper, still staring at the adoption papers.

“I meant what I said, about you becoming her legal guardian. If you want to, that is? I don't wanna force you into anything, Sher.” John replies awkwardly, walking over to his partner.

“Of course I want to, John. I never dreamt that I'd have a family of my own and now that I have one, I'm not going to just give that up.” Sherlock states confidently, looking up at John.

“Alright then.” John smiles, sitting down at the desk.

“So, what do we have to do?” Sherlock asks, sitting down and looking at the papers.

“Well, we have to wait for the social worker, who will be arriving at six so we have an hour to clean this place up. So, that means that you have to get rid of all your experiments and help me tidy.”

“But, John, my experiments are ...” Sherlock begins to whine before John interrupts him.

“Not as important as being a father, Sherlock.”

“Well, I do have the results now anyway. I was going to double check them but I'm _brilliant_ so I can't be wrong.” Sherlock replies reasonably.

John chuckles and rolls his eyes in response.

“I'll get straight to it, John.” Sherlock replies, jumping up and walking to the kitchen.

x..x

“Hello, Doctor Watson, Mr Holmes. I'm Sophia James, your social worker.” A brunette woman of about thirty smiles, holding a hand out to shake.

“Hello, Sophia. And please, call me John and this is Sherlock.” John replies with a smile, leading her upstairs.

“Oh, I know who you are Doctor Watson. I've read your blog. And of course I know of you too, Mr Holmes.”

“I told you people read my blog.” John teases, grinning at Sherlock. “Would you like a brew, Sophia?”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you. Two sugars and black, please.” Sophia smiles brightly, sitting down in the chair across from the couch.

“Miss James, I can assure you that whatever you have heard about me is false. As much as I consider myself a sociopath, I'm not. It was just something I told everyone so that they would ...”

“Sherlock, love, could you help me bring these brews in, please?” John calls from the kitchen, having heard Sherlock's speech.

“Of course, John.” Sherlock replies with a smile, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

“Really, Sherlock? You're trying to adopt my daughter and you mention being a 'sociopath'? Yeah, I'm sure that will encourage her to let you adopt Ana.” John growls in a hushed tone.

“But I thought honesty would work in our favour?”

“Yes, but not _too_ honest. We want her to trust you to be responsible for my daughter.”

“I'm sorry, John.” Sherlock whispers, looking down at the floor.

“It's alright, love. Don't worry.” John replies softly, cupping his partner's cheek.

“So, you do all the talking then.” Sherlock suggests, looking a little more confident.

John nods in reply, giving his partner a smile before heading back into the living room.

“Here you go, Sophia. You'll have to excuse Sherlock, he's a little nervous.”

“Oh, it's alright. I understand. He wants to be as truthful as possible so that he can reassure you. I've seen it all before, don't worry.” Sophia smiles back softly, as Sherlock sits down.

“I apologize.” Sherlock replies, sipping his brew slowly.

“No need, really. Now, I want to start with the circumstances surrounding Ariana's biological mother.”

“She, um, Mary died in child birth. She suffered cardiac arrest and had to have a C-Section.” John replies steadily.

“I'm sorry to hear that, John. And Ariana has been living with you, how long?” Sophia asks professionally, writing down notes in her file.

“It would be ...”

“Ten months, three weeks and two days.” Sherlock interrupts suddenly, smiling back at Sophia.

“We moved in two weeks after Ariana was born. The old house was two big and held a lot of bad memories, and I couldn't afford it on my soldier's pension.” John adds, picking his cup back up and sipping some of his tea.

“Oh, you're a military doctor? Wow, that must have been exciting. My brother wants to join the army, any advice?” Sophia asks casually.

“Yeah, don't sign up.” John half jokes, placing his cup back down before continuing, “Or, go into the medical side. Less likely to get shot then.”

“I'll let him know, thank you. Now, a little more about Ariana. I noticed the safety gates at the top and bottom of the stairs, so she is crawling then?”

“She's walking actually. We've had them put up at the top and bottom as our land lady offers to babysit while I'm at work, or while myself and Sherlock are working a case.”

“Yes, I've heard about the cases. You're quite brilliant, Sherlock. And I'm glad that someone is getting all the evil off the streets.” Sophia replies with a bright smile, sipping her brew.

“Thank you.” Sherlock smiles back, for once looking modest about his intelligence.

“You’re welcome.” Sophia smiles brightly, looking back down at her files.

“So, what else would you like to know?” John asks softly, redirecting the conversation back.

“Well, I think that’s all really. I’ll have to have it reviewed by the board and we’ll see what they say. But it all looks very good so I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you both.” Sophia replies with a soft smile, finishing the rest of her brew and packing away her folder into her briefcase.

“Thank you for coming.” John says, returning her smile and holding a hand out for her to shake.

“It was my pleasure.” Sophia replies, shaking John’s, and then Sherlock’s hands.

“I’ll see you out.” Sherlock interrupts, standing up and leading her to the door.

“Thank you, Mr Holmes.”

The two disappear down the stairs and John chuckles to himself before clearing away the cups.

“Everything alright, love?” John asks when he hears John return.

“Just fine.” Sherlock replies with a smile, kissing John on his cheek.

“Good.” John smiles softly, turning around to kiss Sherlock properly. “Let’s get Ana.”

“Let’s.” Sherlock grins, running off to the bedroom to fetch the little girl.

John chuckles again and moves to sit on the couch, waiting for Sherlock to return.

x..x

Sherlock is sat on the floor with Ana in his lap as they look at her book.

“Ana, can you see horse again?” Sherlock asks softly, pointing to the picture of the horse.

“Horse!” Ana exclaims brightly, pointing to the picture.

“Brilliant!” Sherlock exclaims in return, hugging Ana tighter and kissing her head.

John smiles from where he’s sat on the couch, watching the exchange between the two.

“Come sit with us, John.” Sherlock adds, looking up at his partner.

“Dada!” Ana exclaims loudly, holding her arms out for him.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m coming.” John smiles, standing up and moving to sit in front of his daughter.

Ariana crawls off Sherlock’s lap and sits between the two, making a sort of circle as she looks over the book.

“What’s this one, Ariana?” John asks sweetly, pointing to the picture of the dog.

“Doggy!”

“Good girl. And this one?” John points to a pig on the page.

“Onk onk … Um, piggy.” Ana replies, looking up expectantly at her Dada.

“That’s right, love. How about some toffees for being so clever?” John asks, grinning at his daughter.

“Toffees!” Ana exclaims, waving her arms.

“I’ll be right back.” John smiles, kissing his daughter’s forehead and getting up to go to the kitchen.

He returns a few minutes later with some chocolate for Ana and liqueur chocolates for him and Sherlock.

“John, we can’t eat these now!” Sherlock snaps, eyeing their chocolates suspiciously.

“Yes, we can,” John starts before looking at Ana and continuing, “because it’s time for bed for our little Princess now. Come on, sweetie. If you’re good, maybe Papa will tell you a story.”  

Ariana makes a face but at the mention of Papa reading her a story, her face brightens and she grabs John’s hand.

“Together.” She says, looking between her Dada and Papa.

“Alright then, love. Dada and Papa will tell a story together.” John replies softly, picking Ana up before looking back at Sherlock, “But remember, Papa, no pirates attacking the castle of the beautiful princess, right?”

Sherlock sighs but nods in agreement, standing up and following the two back to the bedroom.

x..x

“… And the little princess went to sleep in her brand new bedroom with her favourite fairy Ariel by her side to watch over her.” Sherlock says, tucking Ariana under her covers before turning on her fairy nightlight.

“Night, Papa. Night, Dada.” Ariana replies, leaning up to kiss, first Sherlock and then John, before shuffling back under her blanket.

“Goodnight, my angel.” John smiles softly, stroking her hair.

“Yes, goodnight, Princess.” Sherlock adds, getting up and standing beside John.

“Love you, Dada, Papa.” Ana whispers as she falls asleep.

“We love you too, sweetheart.” John whispers back, stepping out the room and pulling it partly closed behind them.

“Did she … John, did she …”

“Yes, sweetheart, she did.” John interrupts softly, wiping a tear from Sherlock’s cheek.

“But what about Mary?” Sherlock asks suddenly, looking down at John with sad eyes.

“She knows Mummy is in Heaven and that she loves her very much. I told her that Mummy is like the fairy who watches over her. Even though she isn’t here, she’s still looking over Ana and making sure she’s happy.” John replies, tears falling from his own eyes.

“Oh, John.” Sherlock chokes out sadly, bringing John into a tight hug and kissing his hair softly.

“I told you she’d always know about her mother and why she wasn’t here, Sher.” John slightly sobs into Sherlock’s chest.

“Let’s go to bed, love.” Sherlock replies, pulling away from Sherlock and leading him downstairs.

“I love you, Sherlock.”

“And I love you too, John. You and Ariana are the most important things in my life.”

“I know.”

“Come on, time to sleep.” Sherlock orders gently, helping John out of his clothes.

“Thank you.”

“There’s no thank you necessary, John. Especially not from you, just you being here is thank you enough.” Sherlock replies softly, pulling off his own clothes and climbing into bed.

“Okay, love.” John smiles, climbing into bed and wrapping his arms protectively around Sherlock.

“Goodnight, John. Sleep well.”

“G’night, Sher. You too.” John whispers, letting sleep take him over.


	14. Our Little Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ariana's second birthday and she's becoming more like Sherlock every day.  
> Not that John really minds.  
> When Ariana starts speaking French, Sherlock decides to teach John the language too.  
> And a conversation between John and Greg, has the two men making big decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally, I got over my writer's block with this one xxxxxxx

"Morning, my little angel." John greets cheerfully, sitting down on his daughter's bed.

"Dada!" Ariana squeals, jumping into her father's lap.

"Let's go find Papa." John smiles, picking up Ariana and heading to the living room.

"Papa!" Ariana shouts, struggling in John's arms until he puts her down.

She walks around the room, looking everywhere for her Papa.

"Papa?" She asks cautiously, standing in the middle of the room and looking up at her Dada.

"It's alright, Ana. I'm sure he'll be back soon. Let's make breakfast, shall we?"

Ana nods in reply and grabs John's hand as they walk into the kitchen.

“So, what does my little birthday girl want for breakfast?”

“Strawbry milkshake and pancakes.” Ana says cheerfully, looking expectantly at her Dada.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't have any strawberries for milkshake. I can make you pancakes though.” John replies sympathetically, giving a hopeful smile.

“Okay, Dada.” Ana smiles brightly, nodding her head.

“Alright then.”

John starts getting to work on the pancakes when Ana exclaims loudly, “Papa!” as she tries to struggle out of her high chair.

“Alright, love. Calm down.” John speaks softly, holding her chair to stop it tipping over with Ana's furious struggling.

“Papa!” Ana exclaims again, despite her Dada's words.

“Son tout droit, chéri.Jesuisà la maison.” Sherlock reassures his daughter, walking into the kitchen with a handful of shopping bags.

“Bon.Bon.” Ana giggles, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“In English please, Sherlock.” John asks pointedly, folding his arms.

“I said, it's alright, I'm home.” Sherlock says in English, rolling his eyes at his partner.

“I _really_ wish you wouldn't teach our daughter French without talking to me about it first, love.” John sighs, walking around the table to put the shopping away.

“Apologies, John. Although, I could teach you some French if you'd prefer.” Sherlock replies softly, helping his partner with the shopping.

“Sherlock, it would take forever to learn French at my age. I never really understood it in school. Thirty years later isn't going to make it any fresher in my mind.”  John looks up at his partner and gives him an apologetic smile.

“I've been told I'm a very good teacher. And it would give Ariana a great advantage.” Sherlock smiles in return, kissing John's cheek.

“How, Sher? She's two years old.”

“She's very clever for her age, John. Don't underestimate our daughter.”

“Alright then, Sher. Just please don't teach her anything without telling me first, okay?”

“I promise.” Sherlock grins, pulling out a box of strawberries and a carton of milk.

“Strawbries!” Ariana exclaims excitedly, clapping her hands and bouncing in her high chair.

“How did you know?” John asks with a smile, before looking over at his daughter.

“She's been asking for strawberry milkshake for a while now. And every time we go out, she asks for one.” Sherlock replies in his 'obviously' tone.

“I love you, Sher.” John chuckles, leaning up to kiss his partner.

“I know.” Sherlock smirks, pulling the chopping board and knife out to cut the leaves off the strawberries.

“Aren't you a lucky little girl, eh? Having Papa go out to buy strawberries and milk for your milkshake.”

“Je sais. J'aime Dada et Papa.” Ana smiles sweetly, her eyes sparkling.

“Nous vous aimons trop, princesse.” Sherlock replies, stopping cutting to smile softly at their daughter.

“What did she say?” John asks, looking between his partner and his daughter.

“Je sais means 'I know'. And J'aime means 'I love'. She said that she loves us.” Sherlock smiles, looking over at his partner.

“J ... J'ame?” John asks in a confused tone, trying to pronounce the word.

Sherlock actually giggles before picking up a pen and writing the word on John's hand.

“It's pronounced, jem-e. Don't worry, I'll teach you.” Sherlock says softly, kissing John's forehead.

“Alright, let's finish breakfast first.” John smiles, going back to pouring the pancake batter.

x..x

“So, do you get it now?” Sherlock asks with a grin, watching John process a number of French words at once.

“I think so.” John replies unsurely, before nodding at his partner.

“Comment allez-vous?” Ana asks brightly, grinning at her Dada.

John watches his daughter for a moment, just wondering when she became so much like Sherlock before he replies.

“Très bien, merci.” John smiles, touching her nose.

Ana claps in response, her grin getting bigger as she jumps into her Dada's lap and hugging him tight.

“I told you I could teach you French. And it only took ... _six_ hours. We've wasted so much of the day, John.”

“It's alright, love. The guests don't get here until five, we've still got time to get everything ready.” John smiles, ruffling Sherlock's curls.

“Shall we start now then?” Sherlock asks, already jumping out of his seat.

“Alright then.” John sighs, placing Ana down on the floor and standing up.

“I'm having the cake delivered shortly, I hope you don't mind, John. I saw the one you picked out and went to the shop to get it personalised.”

“I could have taken care of that, Sher. I really didn't mind.”

“Nonsense, John. Isn't it a father's job to be in his child's life and help organise events?” Sherlock asks, turning around to look at his partner.

“Je t'aime, Ma Chéri.” John replies softly, leaning up to kiss Sherlock.

“I'm impressed, John.” Sherlock smirks, cupping John's cheek.

“Like you said, sometimes when you just focus, you can remember stuff that you'd thought you'd forgotten.”

“You continue to amaze me, Mon Amour.”

“Merci. Now, are we setting up or not?” John grins, heading into the kitchen to start the buffet.

“Can we get it done in two hours, John?”

“If you co-operate, Sher.”

“I think I've proven to be _quite_ co-operative today.” Sherlock huffs, pulling trays out of the cupboard for the buffet.

“That you have, love. And if you're good, I've remembered another French phrase from my university days.”

“And what would that be?” Sherlock asks curiously, noticing John's slight smile.

“Je veux te faire l'amour.” John whispers huskily into Sherlock's ear.

“Oh.” Sherlock squeaks, blushing brightly. “I think that could be manageable _after_ the party.”

“Of course.” John gives a suggestive smile before going back to making sandwiches.

“Tease.” Sherlock whispers as he walks past.

“You-hoo.” Mrs Hudson calls, coming into the flat with her arms full of sandwiches on trays.

“Granma Martha!” Ana squeals, running over to their land-lady and wrapping her arms around the woman's legs.

“Hello, Ana. My, aren't we getting big? I can't believe it's been nearly two years already.” Mrs Hudson smiles proudly, looking down into the little girl's big blue eyes.

“Hi, Mrs Hudson. Ana let Grandma Martha come in, sweetheart.” John replies, un-latching his daughter from the land-lady's legs. “Oh, Mrs Hudson, you shouldn't have. We told you we'd sort out the food.”

“Oh, it was no bother, dear. Anything for this little one.”

“Then let me help.” John suggests, before turning to Sherlock. “Here, can you grab Ana, please?”

“Of course, John.” Sherlock smiles, grabbing his daughter and sitting her on his hip.

John smiles back before grabbing a tray off Mrs Hudson and turning to go back to the kitchen.

“Besides, dear, you've got that little one to look after. And if Sherlock's teaching her anything, you're going to need the extra help.”

“Don't I know it.” John chuckles, looking back into the living room where Sherlock is bouncing Ana on his hip.

x..x

“Ah, that must be some more guests.” John announces, jumping up from his seat and going to answer the door.

“I'll just head on up, dear.” Mrs Hudson says, sneaking past John on his way to the door.

“You make yourself at home, Mrs H.” John smiles at her before opening the door, “Greg. Mycroft. So good to see you both, come in.”

“Yes, I'm sure.” Mycroft drawls with a fake smile, which just reminds John that he and Sherlock are most _definitely_ brothers.

Greg elbows him and throws an apologetic smile at John before apologising.

“Ignore him, John. You know he's not really a party person. But, he loves his niece just as much as we all do

“I know. Now, before we go up, behave. I won't have the same as last year when you and Sherlock were sniping at each other. Ana doesn't need that.”

“Just so long as my brother behaves.” Mycroft replies, moving past John to go upstairs.

“Sorry. I'm still trying to break him in.” Greg grins, clapping John on the shoulder.

“It took me nearly nine months to break Sherlock in, even now he still has his off days.”

“Bloody Holmes', eh?”

“Yeah.” John agrees as they make their way upstairs.

“So, do you want to open your presents first, Ana?” Sherlock asks with a bright smile.

“Sherlock, maybe it would be a good idea to have the buffet first.” Mycroft suggests and receives a glare from his younger brother.

“It's alright, Mycroft. She can open her presents first.” John replies, handing his daughter a present.

“Of course.” Mycroft replies with a fake smile.

“Dada! Papa! Granma Martha got me a doll!” Ana squeals loudly, waving the doll in front of them in turn.

John smiles at his daughter before sitting himself on the arm of Sherlock's chair and smiling wider when the younger man wraps an arm around him.

Mycroft looks up at his little brother and gives a genuine smile that Sherlock actually returns before looking back down at his daughter.

John and Greg grin at each other having both seen the rare and sweet exchange between the two brothers. Sherlock squeezes John's hip in warning as Mycroft squeezes Greg's hand a little too hard.

“Ana, how about you open this one from me and Uncle Mycroft.” Greg says, pulling his hand out of Mycroft's grip.

“YAY!” Ana exclaims, climbing into Greg's lap.

“Here you go, darling.” Greg smiles softly, handing his niece the little box.

Ana quickly rips the paper off before lifting the lid.

“It's a bracelet.” Ana gasps, looking up at her uncles.

“It's a Christening bracelet. Lots of children have them.”

“It's bootiful.” Ana says softly, looking at the name engraved on it; _Ariana Mary Watson-Holmes._

“Beautiful, Ana. Remember.” Sherlock corrects, giving his daughter a gentle smile.

“Sherlock, she's two and can speak French better than any thirty year old. Cut her some slack.” John chastises gently, rolling his eyes.

“She speaks French?” Greg asks incredulously, looking up at the couple.

“Oui, très bien en fait.” Ana replies absently, playing with her bracelet.

“Très bon, Ariana.” Mycroft smiles proudly, with a perfect French accent.

“Does everybody speak French in here? I mean, I haven't spoken French in fifteen years.” Greg asks, looking around the room.

“I do, so does Mycroft and so does John, now.” Sherlock replies with a proud smile, looking up at his partner.

“Good, so I still have Mrs Hudson and Molly then. Thank God.”

“Gregory, I can teach you French if you'd like.” Mycroft smiles, reaching over and grabbing his partner's hand.

Sherlock makes a gagging noise while John just smiles at the exchange.

“Do grow up, little brother.” Mycroft chastises, leaning over to kiss Greg softly.

“Mycroft! Not in front of our daughter!” Sherlock snaps, gripping John's hip hard.

“Ow, Sherlock. Loosen up on the grip.” John snaps, pulling Sherlock's hand away.

Mycroft just smirks before pulling the bracelet out of Ana's hand and slipping it on her wrist.

“Thank you, Uncle Myc.” Ana smiles brightly, looking back at the bracelet.

“Here you go, Ana.” Molly says sweetly, handing her another present.

Ana grins, ripping the paper off and pulling out some very small dresses.

“Me and Grandma Martha had a talk and she said she'd buy you a doll so I bought some clothes for her.”

“Thank you, Aunt Molly.” Ana replies, throwing her arms around the young woman.

“You're welcome, sweetheart.”

“What you get me, Dada, Papa?” Ana asks expectantly, looking up at her parents with big eyes.

“Well, we have a few for you, Ana. Here's your first one.” John says with a smile, holding out a box for his daughter.

Ana climbs off Greg's lap and walks over to her Dada and Papa, taking the present from John's hand.

“It's bootiful, Dada, Papa. I love it.” Ana smiles, gently pulling the necklace out of the box.

“Here, want me to put it on?” John asks softly, holding his hand out.

“Thank you, Dada.” Ana nods, letting John clip the necklace around her neck. “Ariana.” She reads on the necklace, looking up to smile at her parents.

“Here is your other one, sweetheart.” Sherlock adds, holding out another present.

“Thank you, Papa.” Ana smiles, pulling out the _Alice In Wonderland_ DVD and necklace.

“Daddy says you've been talking about it for weeks.” Sherlock replies with a soft smile, leaning up to kiss John's cheek.

“Papa, it's perfect.” Ana grins, climbing up into her Papa's lap and kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Dada.” She adds, kissing her Dada's cheek too.

“You're welcome, love.” John beams, stroking his daughter's cheek.

“I love the necklace too.”

“We're glad, sweetheart.”

“And your final present is this.” Sherlock grins, holding out a box for Ariana.

“A charm bracelet!” Ana squeals happily, pulling the bracelet out of it's box.

“It's a special one. Usually, a daddy will buy their daughter a charm bracelet and buy her a charm every birthday. Me and Papa have decided to start you off with your first two charms, one with your date of birth on and one with a teddy bear on for your second birthday ...”

“And whenever something interesting happens, we'll buy you another charm. So, your first trip to a new place or a dance recital or if we just find a charm that we think you'll like then we'll buy it.” Sherlock interrupts, grinning at his daughter.

“John, shall we get some food for everyone?” Greg asks, nodding toward the kitchen.

John gives him a puzzled look but gets up anyway and follows Greg into the kitchen.

“Okay, what's wrong with him? I mean, he's _actually_ being human. How did you manage that?” Greg chuckles, grabbing a couple of sandwiches for himself.

“I guess having a daughter is a good start. But I don't know, he's different yet _exactly_ the same. It's weird.” John giggles, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, are you going to ask him or not?” Greg asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“I don't know, Greg. He doesn't seem the type.”

“Neither was Mycroft but look.” Greg replies, wiggling his ring finger.

“Yeah but Mycroft's ... well, he's _Mycroft_. Isn't he? Besides, he's not _married to his work_. Is he?” John asks sadly, putting sandwiches on three plates and adding some nibbles.

“John, I may not be the _world's only consulting detective_ , but anyone with eyes can see he's mad about you. He wouldn't be bonding with your daughter if he wasn't.”

“I know he is. But why would he want to do something as tedious as _marriage_?”

“You really are an idiot.” Greg chuckles, following John's lead and loading up some plates with food.

“I know.” John chuckles in reply, picking up the plates and moving back into the living room.

“Here you go, Mrs H, Molly.” Greg smiles, holding out the two paper plates to the women.

“Ana, have something to eat, sweetheart.” John instructs gently, handing a plate to his daughter. “You as well, love.” He adds, handing a plate to Sherlock.

Sherlock gives the plate a disgusted look but starts picking at the food anyway.

“Good boy.” John grins, kissing Sherlock's curls.

“Thank you, Gregory.” Mycroft smiles honestly, taking the plate from his partner.

“You're welcome, darling.” Greg smiles back softly, sitting down next to his partner.

Sherlock makes another gagging noise and John elbows him in the ribs to shut him up. The younger man scowls in return before continuing to eat his food.

x..x

“Well, it's been ... _delightful_ , but me and Gregory must be getting home. We'll see you soon.” Mycroft announces, giving his usual over-polite smile.

“Oh, good. I thought you'd never leave. I'm just surprised I managed to keep my food down while you two were _canoodling_.” Sherlock replies distastefully, giving his brother a withering glare.

“It's a good thing Ana is already asleep and doesn't have to hear you two bickering.” John intervenes, referring to the curled up ball in Greg's lap.

“Oh, yeah. You'll probably want her back.” Greg replies sheepishly, bringing Ana into his arms.

“Why don't you put her to bed for us.” John suggests with a smile.

“It's alright ...”

“It's fine, Greg. Go on.”

“Alright.” Greg nods, picking up his niece and walking to the bedroom.

“Go with him, Mycroft.” John suggests pointedly, motioning toward the bedroom.

Mycroft nods awkwardly, standing up and following his partner.

When he reaches the bedroom, he sees the sweetest of smiles on his partner's face.

“You want one, don't you?” Mycroft asks softly, walking to stand next to his partner.

“Na, I mean it'd be nice to have one but there's no pressure. It's okay. We've got a beautiful little niece.”

“If you ... if you want to, we could look into adoption. I've never thought about being a father before but I would, with you.” Mycroft replies honestly, running his fingers through Greg's hair.

“Myc, honestly, if you don't want one, it's fine.”

“I've seen what a child's done for Sherlock, he's better somehow. More driven yet less irresponsible. He's grown up so much in just two years.” Mycroft smiles a wistful sort of smile.

“God, you look so young when you smile like that. So beautiful. How can I make you smile like that?” Greg asks softly, watching his partner.

“You could ... have a child with me. If you want to, that is, my dear.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to but I want to know that you're sure.”

“Yes, I am. I _genuinely_ am. I've always wanted this. But when I realised my sexuality it became more of a dream than something that would happen. And now it doesn't have to be. Gregory, I ... I want to have a baby with you.” Mycroft replies, grinning at Greg.

“Me too, Mikey.” Greg grins back, kissing Mycroft softly.

x..x

“Sherlock?” John says suddenly, standing up and moving in front of Sherlock.

“Yes, John?” Sherlock asks, looking at his partner curiously.

“Listen, being with you, it's made me think about a few things ...”

“You're leaving? John, you're not going to _leave_ , are you?” Sherlock asks worriedly.

“What? No, Sherlock. God no, I'm not leaving you.” John smiles reassuringly, touching Sherlock's curls.

“Then what is it?”

“You haven't deduced it yet?”

“John, I told you, I don't understand relationships.”

“Well, I hope you'll understand this.” John smiles shyly, getting down on one knee in front of Sherlock. “William Sherlock Scott Holmes, will you marry me?”

“John ... Um, yes. Yes, of course I will. Definitely.” Sherlock replies in shock, leaning down to kiss John passionately.

“Okay then.” John giggles, stroking Sherlock's curls.

“John.” Mycroft interrupts, “We're going to go.”

“Alright, see ya soon then, yeah.” John replies sheepishly.

“And, congratulations to you both.” Mycroft smiles genuinely, even giving the pair a wink before disappearing.

“I think I'm going to be sick.” Sherlock groans, dropping his head in his hands.

“At least he approves.” John chuckles, placing a kiss on Sherlock's head as he stands.

Sherlock looks up and gives John a soft smile.

“I love you, John Hamish Watson.”

“I love you too, Sherlock Holmes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the French translations for those of you (like me) who aren't French:  
> -Son tout droit, chéri. Je suis à la maison means It's all right, darling. I'm home  
> -Bon means Good  
> -Je sais. J'aime Dada et Papa means I know. I love Dada and Papa  
> -Nous vous aimons trop means We love you too  
> -Comment allez-vous means How are you  
> -Très bien means Very well  
> -Je t'aime, Ma Chéri means I love you, my darling  
> -Mon amour means My love  
> -Merci means Thank you  
> -Je veux te faire l'amour means I want to make love to you  
> -Oui, très bien en fait means Yes, very well actually  
> -Très bon means Very good
> 
> Sorry, there's a lot there ;) xxxx


	15. Marry Me A Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sherlock and John's big day and the boys are freaking out.  
> Can Greg and Mycroft calm the boys enough to get them to the ceremony?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this time I'm not chickening out of writing the wedding, especially because Ariana is gonna be a little bridesmaid under the supervision of Mycroft's favourite PA ;) xxx

“God, Greg, I'm freaking out. I mean, look at me. I look a state. I knew we shouldn't have drank so much last night.” John sighs, scrubbing his hands in his short hair.

“It was your last night as a free man, John. I wasn't going to let you go out without a bang.” Greg grins, like a teenage boy who's getting up to mischief.

“Yeah and now look, I look half bloody dead. And there's no way Sherlock's going to want to marry  _ this _ .” John groans, pointing at his own dishevelled state.

“Shut it, you. Right now. That man's been wanting to marry you  _ probably _ since the day he met you. So he's not gonna back out just because you look a bit hungover.”

“A  _ bit _ . I look like something a cat threw up, Greg.” John cries hysterically, pacing the room for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“You belong with him, ya know. Just as bloody dramatic, you are. God Almighty, go get a shower and freshen up. I'll make you a brew.” Greg sighs in an exasperated tone, waving the army doctor away.

“Go on, sod off.” He adds, when John doesn't move towards the bathroom.

John glares at Greg before slumping his shoulders and heading to the bathroom.

Once in the kitchen, Greg pulls out his phone to ring his husband while he puts the kettle on.

“Hey, love. How's yours doing?”

“ _Can't you hear him? He's screaming like the bloody house is on fire. I might just kill him.”_

“Ha, mine's not too better. Keeps saying that Sherlock won't marry him because he looks hungover. I shoved him in the shower while I make a brew. What you gonna do about Sherlock?”

“ _I don't know about shoving him in a shower. I might just shove him out a bloody window. Why did I get Sherlock again?”_ Mycroft sighs and Greg can hear him pacing the floor.

“Because he's your little brother and you know I'd have decked him if he started getting hysterical.” Greg grins, pouring the boiling water into John's cup.

“ _I can't promise_ I  _ won't do that.” _

“Just take a deep breath, darling and tell him to fuck off and get a shower. Then make yourself some of that fancy tea you like and get your breath back.”

“ _We should never have split them up. They would be less hysterical if they were together at Baker Street.”_

“They'd still be shagging right now if they were both here.”

“ _Gregory!”_ Mycroft gasps loudly and Greg can practically see the blush creeping up his husband's cheeks.

“I miss you, Myc.” Greg sighs softly, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“ _And I you, my dear. But we'll be reunited within an hour.”_

“If one of us doesn't commit murder that is.” Greg grins, taking John's tea into the living room.

“ _Ah, yes. That is true.”_

“John's coming out of the shower now, love, so I gotta go."

“ _Wait, Gregory. May I have a word with him?”_

“Yeah, sure. John, Mycroft wants a quick word.”

“Alright, mate.”

Greg hands the phone over to John and collapses onto the couch.

“Hello.”

“ _John?”_

“Sherlock? How are you, sweetheart?” John asks with a bright smile.

Greg just chuckles to himself at the sight; trust his husband to get the two soon-to-be-weds on the phone to each other.

“ _I'm freaking out, John. My hair won't stay in place and my tie is all crooked and what if you don't want to marry me because I'm in such state?”_ Sherlock says in a rush and John can tell he's probably mussing up his hair in his panic.

“Calm down, darling. Of course I want to marry you. It doesn't matter what state you're in, I still love you.”

Greg nearly chokes trying not to laugh at the irony of John's words; which not twenty minutes ago he was complaining about his own state.

John shoots him a glare and picks up his tea before carrying on.

“Listen, I love your unruly curls, Sherlock. Especially when they're messed up after sex.” John looks back at Greg with a smirk and Greg nearly chokes for a whole other reason.

“ _So even if I looked a complete mess, you'd still marry me?”_ Sherlock asks timidly.

“Of course I would, love. Now, try to calm down and I'll see you in an hour. I've still got to get ready yet. I love you.”

“ _I love you too, John. And I'll see you in an hour. Goodbye, my darling.”_

“Goodbye, my love.”

“So, do as I say not as I do then?” Greg grins, quirking an eyebrow at John.

“Shut up, you. I'm going getting ready.”

Greg just laughs as John stomps off to his bedroom and slams the door behind him.

“Aren't they so dramatic?” Mrs Hudson announces with a slight smile.

“That they are, Mrs H. Made for each other, those too.” Greg replies, still grinning.

“It's lovely though, isn't it? Our boys getting married. Like it was always meant to be.”

“Yeah it is. So how's the little one?”

“Aww, Greg, she looks lovely. And Anthea looks beautiful too. You should see the two of them. Thick as thieves, they are.”

“That's great, Mrs H.”

“Cup of coffee, dear?” Mrs Hudson asks with a smile, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Mr H.”

“Just this once, dear. I'm not a housekeeper.”

Greg chuckles to himself and relaxes back into the couch cushions.

x..x

“Sherlock, stop it. You look fine.” Mycroft chides, slapping Sherlock's hand away from his tie.

“I never said, um, thank you, Mycroft. For all of this.” Sherlock replies sheepishly, directing to the decorations in their family home's garden.

“You're welcome, dear brother.” Mycroft smiles genuinely, looking over his younger sibling with pride.

“Yes, well.”

“Ah, they're here.” Mycroft announces, cutting short their awkward conversation.

“Hello, darling.” Greg smiles at his husband, kissing him softly. “Sherlock.” He says by way of greeting.

“Greg.” Sherlock replies, his tone a little less malicious and annoyed than usual.

Greg just smiles before pulling Mycroft to the side.

“John.” Sherlock breathes, looking his future husband over carefully.

“Hey, Sherlock.” John replies shyly, blushing under Sherlock's gaze.

“You look … stunning.” Sherlock gasps out, touching John's cheek.

“So do you, love.” John grins, reaching up to wrap an errant curl around his finger.

Sherlock huffs but it turns into a smile as the priest steps forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to day in holy matrimony to witness the joining together of William Sherlock Scott Holmes and John Hamish Watson. If anybody knows of any lawful impediment why these two should not be married then speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Sherlock and John take a sneaky glance around the room before looking back at the priest.

“Alright then. Sherlock, repeat after me. I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, do take John Hamish Watson to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Sherlock turns to John and repeats the start of his vows, picking up John's hand and holding it between in his own.

“In sickness and in health. For richer, for poorer. For as long as we both shall live.”

“In sickness and in health. For richer, for poorer. And of course, wherever life make take us, for as long as we both shall live.” Sherlock amends, smiling down at John.

“John, repeat after me. I, John Hamish Watson, do take William Sherlock Scott Holmes to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

John repeats the same words to Sherlock, squeezing the younger man's hand in his and smiling up at him.

“In sickness and in health. For richer, for poorer. For as long as we both shall live.” The priest continues, looking up at the two men.

“In sickness and in health. For richer, for poorer. And no matter what happens, I'll always love you. For as long as we both shall live.”

Sherlock gives a warm smile before turning to his brother to receive the rings.

“John, I give this to you as a symbol of my unwavering love throughout everything life will throw at us. And a promise to always be there for you no matter what. I love you, John. More than I have loved anything or anyone in my entire life.” The younger man says, placing the ring on John's finger.

“I don't think I ever imagined that I'd fall in love with a man who I started sharing a flat with, not even when he became my best friend. But even meeting you at my wife's funeral, I felt like everything was going to be okay. You gave me a home and support when I needed it the most and you loved me when I thought nobody else ever could. I'll never forget that. I love you too, Sherlock.” John replies, a tear sliding down his cheek as he slips the ring onto the younger man's finger.

Sherlock's hand comes up to wipe away the tear from John's cheek before he leans in and kisses him softly.

“Congratulations, gentlemen. You're officially married.” The priest smiles before addressing everyone else, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd like to make your way inside for the reception, the ceremony has finished.”

John smiles once more before looking first at Anthea and then down at his daughter; holding her flowers up and grinning at her fathers.

“Come on, Princess. Let's get some cake.” He grins, picking up his daughter and holding a hand out for Sherlock.

Sherlock takes his hand and they make their way to the reception; grinning widely the whole time.

Anthea smiles sweetly and follows her boss into the reception room.

x..x

“Harry, thanks for coming, sis. It's good to see you.”

“You too, Johnny. I still can't believe you married a man, and a young fit one at that.” Harry giggles, eyeing Sherlock from where he's standing with Greg and Ariana.

“Oi, you. That's my husband you're ogling. Knock it off.” John replies, nudging her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, he is, isn't it? Nice bit of alright? Why he married you I'll never know.” Harry jokes, grabbing her brother's arm and pulling him towards Clara.

“I think he has a thing for army doctors.” John jokes back, giggling at his own joke.

“So he likes a man in uniform then? Your husband just got more interesting.” Harry teases, eyeing Sherlock once again.

John just blushes in response as Clara turns around to greet them.

“Hi, John. Congratulations. I'm so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Clara. It's weird being married again though. And especially to someone like Sherlock.”

“I know, love. But he's a good one and it wouldn't do no good to stay in the past. I heard Mary was a lovely woman but you've got to let yourself love again.”

“Oh, barrel of bloody laughs, you are. Bringing up the death of his daughter's mother.” Harry sighs, rolling her eyes at her wife.

“No, she's right, Harry. Ariana needed a stable family and I couldn't do that on my own. Course I'll always love Mary but I love Sherlock in a completely different way.”

“Well, of course. Anyway, how about I get you a drink. Maybe Miss Cheerful here will come up with a better topic of conversation.” Harry half smiles, heading off to the bar.

Before Clara even has a chance to speak again, Ana's voice rings clear across the room with a shout of “Dada”, followed by her practically jumping into John's arms.

“Hello, darling. Where's Papa?”

“Talking wiv Uncle Gweg about the muwder.”

“What murder?” John asks curiously, looking his daughter over carefully.

“Oopsie.” Ana shrugs, her hands covering her mouth.

“Clara, do you mind?” John asks, handing his daughter over to his sister-in-law.

“Course not.” Clara smiles, sitting Ana on her hip.

“I'll be right back.”

John runs off to look for his husband and friend before spotting them outside.

“Sherlock, you're not running off for a case on our wedding day. Not a chance.”

“Ariana told you, didn't she? But Jawn, it's a ten, it's the most interesting case we've had for weeks.”

“No, Sherlock. I'm putting my foot down on this one. And Greg, why on Earth did you bring it up?”

“It was only a passing comment.” Greg defends, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Jawn ...”

“No, Sherlock. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving our daughter or our guests here, and no, we're  _ not _ taking Ariana with us to a crime scene. Let Scotland Yard handle this.”

“But ...”

“ _ Sherlock _ .” John warns, glaring at his husband.

“Fine.” Sherlock sighs, flopping against the wall.

“Good boy.” John smiles, kissing Sherlock's cheek before disappearing back inside.

“Send me the crime scene photos. I'll look them over.” John hears Sherlock reply, rolling his eyes and giggling to himself.

“Typical Sherlock."

 


	16. Bloody Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally investigates the series of murders and finds some very interesting information.  
> Meanwhile, Ariana spends the day with Grandma Martha.  
> And John finds out how motivated Sherlock can be, post-case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait with this one. I started work last week and was hoping to get some of my stories updated beforehand but as usual, real life gets in the way :( so this carries on from where I left off with Sherlock wanting to pursue the murder case xxxx

All in all, Sherlock considerately postpones the murder case until the day after the wedding, choosing instead to enjoy finally being married to John and spending time showing off his daughter; both of which John is more than grateful for.

Today, however, Sherlock has thrown himself completely into the case, having been up at 7am to _catch up on what he's missed_.

John just sighs and rolls over, falling back to sleep with little protest.

“John, aren't you going to help?” Sherlock asks, looking down at his sleeping husband.

“Nngh.” John muffles into his pillow, snuggling deeper under the covers.

“But, John, it’s a serial murderer. He’s on his sixth victim and Scotland Yard has no clue. Come on, Jawn.” Sherlock replies excitedly, pulling back the duvet.

“Just _one_ day, could I _please_ be allowed a lie in?” John sighs in exasperation.

“Ariana will be up soon anyway, you should have a cup of tea before she wakes up.”

“You’re not going to leave until I get up, are you?”

“No."

“Fine. I’m up. But you can make tea while I have a shower.”

“ _Fine_.” Sherlock sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes at his husband.

John just smiles and heads to the bathroom.

x..x

“So, serial murderer then. What do you have so far?” John asks as he hands Ana her juice.

“Well, he likes to take trophies. Look here, you can see that this man is missing his wedding ring. And this woman is missing her necklace. This one, her engagement ring and this man, his watch.” Sherlock replies, pointing to the crime scene photos of the victims.

“And what about the other two?”

“Well, he could have taken the earrings from the fifth victim but I can’t be sure without seeing the body. She could have just taken them out that morning. With all the other victims the skin is slightly lighter where the jewellery was. As for the final victim, from what I can tell, she didn’t wear any jewellery, or at least none that would leave a tan line like the others.”

“You’ve got the crime scene photos of the rooms where they were found, right?”

“Yes, they’re here. Why?”

“Pass them here. And give me your magnifying glass.”

“What can you see, John?”

“Look here. Can you see the space on the mantelpiece?” John asks, handing the first photo back to Sherlock.

“Have we got another angle of this crime scene?”

“Yeah, here.” John replies, flicking through the photos to find the right one. “It looks like a photo frame going off the slight dust ring.”

“Let me see. You’re right. Well done, John.” Sherlock grins, pride evident on his face.

John smiles before looking through the other photos.

“Here, can you see that? Now, I’m not a jeweller but that looks like an earring.” John says, pointing to the little dot on the floor next to the vanity unit. “My guess is that the murderer couldn’t find any jewellery on her so routed through her little jewellery box.

“John, you’re brilliant!” Sherlock grins, kissing John quickly.

John blushes at the praise before ducking his head to look back at the other photos.

“As if forensics missed that. Although, that’s what you get when Anderson leads the team. Idiots.”

“Mmm, but now the question is why? Why go through the jewellery box for some earrings?”

“Oh, brilliant! That’s it! It’s a compulsion. He can’t _not_ steal personal items. Something was taken from him and now he’s stealing things back. He thinks they belong to him.”

“Why do you think the murderer is a man?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me it isn’t.”

“Look more closely at the photos, John. The way he kills them is brutal. But also clever, he never brings any weapons with him. He’s using things that belong to the victims as weapons. Look, the first victim was killed with his scarf; given the ligature marks on his neck. The second with her necklace; before it was ripped off. The third and fourth were both killed with small kitchen appliances; the woman was electrocuted with her hairdryer in the bath and the man was gassed to death with his own cooker.”

Sherlock waves to the photos in front of John, before scrubbing at his hair in frustration.

“And what about five and six?”

“Well, five was obviously killed by her hideous cat figurine and six was killed by …”

“By … what?”

“I’ve been so stupid, John! Number six was killed by her photo frame. That’s why it’s missing. It isn’t a trophy, it’s the weapon.”

“Wait, if every other crime scene still had the murder weapons still at the scene; minus number two and number six, why did he take those as trophies instead of cleaning up and getting out of there?”

“Because number two and number six were personal, the rest were just collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Clearly there’s a connection between these two. And the rest were killed to make it look like a serial murderer.”

“But you said he has a compulsion for stealing things.”

“Yes, he does. That’s why he stole the necklace and photo frame. As well as being murder weapons they were also personal items. As for the other crimes, they’re not personal but he still has the compulsion to steal.”

Sherlock begins to pace as he runs through the facts in his mind palace, discarding all the useless information and properly ordering the important information.

“Okay, I get it. So, what connects number two and number six?”

“Let’s ask Lestrade.” Sherlock replies, pulling out his mobile and dialling the DI’s number.

“Yay, Uncle Greg!” Ariana suddenly squeals, waving her teddy bear in the air.

John looks over at his daughter with a worried expression, hoping she hasn’t heard the whole conversation and has just picked up on her uncle’s name.

“Dada and Papa are going solve a murder.” Ana informs her bear brightly.

“Oh, God.” John sighs, looking back over at Sherlock; who is talking animatedly with Lestrade over the phone.

“Ana, why don’t we play in your room for a while?” John asks his daughter, as Sherlock starts to exclaim loudly about the details of the case.

“But I want to help.” Ana replies sadly, her bottom lip sticking out in a sad pout.

“I’m afraid, sweetheart, that this isn’t a case for little girls. Come on now.” John says gently, holding his hand out for Ana.

“Okay.” Ana sighs loudly, grabbing her Dada’s hand as he walks her to her bedroom.

“Good girl.”

Ten minutes later and Sherlock comes running in, yelling excitedly at his husband.

“John! John! John! Number two and number six worked together! And on the nights they were murdered, both victims got a call from one of their co-workers; Marcus Baines. He’s the killer, John!”

“Sherlock, not in front of Ariana. Now, back into the living room and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“But, John …”

“Go, Sherlock.”

“Fine.”

x..x

“Are you sure this is where Marcus Baines lives?” John asks, as he tries to position himself away from the bins inside the alley.

“Of course I’m sure. Have I ever been wrong before? Wait, don’t answer that.”

John just chuckles and grins at his husband.

“Ha, see, Marcus Baines.” Sherlock whispers, pointing to the man leaving the block of flats.

“Should we wait for backup?”

“Nonsense, John. He could get away by the time Lestrade’s team arrive. Let’s go.”

Before John can argue, Sherlock stands up and dashes for the murderer; who sees Sherlock and takes off running.

“Here we go again.” John sighs, jumping up and running after his husband.

Marcus turns down another alley and picks up pace, luckily, Sherlock his just a few steps behind him and after a run down three more alleys, the detective manages to corner him.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Marcus. We just want to talk.”

“Then why … the bloody hell … were you chasing me?” Marcus pants, as he leans against the alley wall.

“Because, you’re a murderer and we couldn’t just let you get away.” Sherlock replies casually.

John smiles as he steps into the alley and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t even seem out of breath after the long chase.

“Give it up, Marcus. The police are on their way now. The game’s up.” John adds, standing next to Sherlock to block all escape.

“Sherlock? You down here?” Lestrade’s voice rings off the walls of the previous alley.

“Right down here, Lestrade.” Sherlock’s voice bellows back, just as Lestrade turns into the alley with his gun drawn.

“Baines, put your hands on your head. No sudden movements.”

Baines, figuring he’s finally caught, does as he’s told and raises his hands above his head in surrender.

“Thanks guys, you can go now. We’ll handle this from here.”

“Cheers, mate.” John replies with a weary sigh. “Come on, Sherlock.”

x..x

John smiles at Sherlock as they cross the threshold of 221B and pulls him into his arms.

“You’re brilliant.” He informs his husband, kissing him softly.

“As are you, John. Now, perhaps we could take this somewhere more comfortable.” Sherlock replies with a suggestive smile.

“We’ve just been staking out a criminal for three hours and your libido is kicking in?”

“When I’m around you, John … Always.”  Sherlock purrs, leaning down to nip at John’s neck.

“ _Sher_.”

“I’m sure Mrs Hudson can take care of Ana for a little longer.”

“Oh God.”

Sherlock chuckles into John’s neck as he walks him slowly toward the bedroom.

Once they reach the bedroom, they strip each other slowly; taking the time to enjoy their alone time.

“I love you, Sher.”

“I love you too, John.” Sherlock replies softly, kissing his husband as he lays him down on their bed.

John leans over Sherlock to kiss him softly, running his hands down his husband’s chest and enjoying his little whimpers.

As John starts to nimble Sherlock’s neck, the younger man scrapes his nails down his back before gripping his hips tightly.

“John, may I?” Sherlock asks softly, meeting John’s eyes with his own.

“Of course, sweetheart.” John smiles lovingly, rolling off his husband and onto his back.

Sherlock looks over at his husband and smiles sweetly, reaching over to rest his hand over his heart before leaning in to kiss him.

He kisses down the doctor’s chest until he stops just before his cock, leaning over to lick a strip up it and smiling when the action causes his husband to shiver and moan.

John instinctively spreads his legs in invitation and starts to stroke himself, stuttering slightly when Sherlock kisses the inside of his thigh.

“ _Sherlock_.” John breathes, his eyes fluttering shut.

Sherlock reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the lube, quickly pouring a generous amount on himself before lining himself up and pushing into the tight heat with a low moan.

John moans softly, deciding to let his husband set the pace of their love making.

After a few, agonisingly slow thrusts, John whines impatiently, wrapping his legs around Sherlock’s waist and forcing him deeper.

“Move, Sherlock.”

Sherlock takes pity on his husband and moves a little more forcefully; smiling when John’s body curves upwards to force Sherlock even deeper.

“Faster, please.” John moans, reaching out for his husband.

Sherlock leans over his husband as he starts to pound faster into him, watching his face contort in pleasure as his body writhes underneath him.

He feels when his husband is right on the edge and leans into his neck to bite him, hard.

John screams and grips Sherlock tighter; sending him into his own orgasm as the doctor rides out his own.

John leans over to kiss him passionately before following Sherlock over the edge with a low moan.

“Wow.” John sighs, looking down at the mop of curls on his head. “I have to say, I think post-case sex is  _better_ than anything else.”

“Enough to stop you leaving this bed for a cup of tea?” Sherlock asks with a smirk.

“Right now? Definitely.”

“We’ll have to do it more often then.” Sherlock laughs, kissing his husband’s chest.

“God, that means we’ll need a nanny.” John sighs, grinning at his husband.

“And sound-proofing.”

“Idiot.” John giggles, wrapping his arms around Sherlock.

“Boys! Boys! Are you decent?” Mrs Hudson’s voice calls from the living room.

“Never, Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock shouts back, earning a light slap off John.

“We’ll be right out, Mrs Hudson.”

“Alright, I’ll make you some tea then. Just this once though, I’m not your housekeeper.” Mrs Hudson calls back, causing the two men to laugh at her usual catchphrase.

“Come on then, you. Up we get.” John says, nudging Sherlock’s still limp form.

“But, _Jawn_.”

“Come on.”

Sherlock huffs dramatically and rolls off his husband, throwing an arm over his eyes.

John chuckles and climbs out of bed, quickly cleaning himself up before getting re-dressed.

Sherlock follows suit a few minutes later and then they’re both in the kitchen with an all-too-knowing-landlady.

“Dada! Papa! Did you catch the bad man?” Ana asks excitedly, running at her fathers and hugging them both tightly.

“Yes, we did, sweetheart. He’s going to prison for a long time now.” John replies, ruffling his daughter’s hair.

“Yay! Well done!” She grins, looking up at them.

“So, what have you and Grandma Martha been up to then?” Sherlock asks with a smile, picking his daughter up and sitting her on his hip.

“We baked cakes, drawed pictures, went to the park and watched tv.” Ana says brightly, pointing to the cakes and drawings on the kitchen table.

“Mmm, I bet these are very tasty too.” Sherlock grins, leaning over and plucking a cake off the plate.

“Mmm.” He adds, around a mouthful of cake.

“Dada, you have one too.”

“Mmm, these are lovely, sweetheart. Well done.” He smiles at his daughter, munching on a cupcake.

“Well, I’ll leave you boys to it. Have a nice night, dears.” Mrs Hudson smiles softly, looking at the three with such fondness.

“Thank you for looking after her, Mrs Hudson.” John smiles, walking over and hugging her.

“Oh, it was no problem, dear. We had such fun.”

“T’morrer too?” Ana asks, around her own mouthful of cake.

“It’s up to Dada and Papa, dear.”

Ana looks between her Dada and Papa pointedly, and John smiles at how much she’s like Sherlock.

“If Grandma Martha isn’t too busy, then yes, you can.”

“Oooh, I’ll have to show you how to paint too. Won’t that be fun, Ana?”

“Yay!”

“Anyway, I best be off. Goodnight, dears.”

“Goodnight, Mrs Hudson.”

x..x

A few hours later and Ana is tucked up in bed while Sherlock and John are curled up on the couch watching a movie.

“I love our little family.” John says softly, kissing Sherlock’s curls.

“As do I, John. I think a bouquet of flowers is long overdue for Mike Stamford.” Sherlock smiles up at his husband.

“Yeah, so do I.” John laughs, holding Sherlock tighter.


	17. Meeting The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Greg take Ria to meet John and Sherlock.  
> But what's supposed to be a happy day with the family, turns south when Sherlock pushes to hard.  
> Will Mycroft find his breaking point with his brother?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apologies for the long wait, I had college and dance performances then I got a job, then I lost it and since then I've just not had the inspiration or energy to write. But then I thought while I'm jobless and have lots of time on my hands I might as well try to get some stories done xxxx

“Sherlock, remember to be nice to this girl, okay? She’s not just some surrogate, she’s Greg’s niece.” John says gently but firmly.

“John, I’m not a complete monster.” Sherlock scoffs, stacking up his recent case files into a neat pile on the desk.

“Not a complete one, no. Just part monster.” The doctor smirks, hiding Sherlock’s recent experiment in the cupboard under the sink.

Sherlock gives John a glare that would wither lesser men but the doctor just smiles back sweetly.

“Boys? Are you up?” Mrs Hudson's voice interrupts anything Sherlock might have responded with.

“Hi, Mrs Hudson.”

“Hello, John, dear. Mycroft and Greg are coming today, aren't they? That will be nice, won't it? And they're finally having a baby. More little ones running around here.” Mrs Hudson gushes brightly, clasping her hands together.

“Yes, wonderful.” Sherlock drawls sarcastically, moving his skull back to it's proper position on the mantle.

John chuckles at his husband's slight OCD, remembering the time he insisted his brother had it and didn't realise it.

“Be nice, Sherlock. You want your brother to be happy, don't you?” Mrs Hudson chides, folding her arms across her chest.

“Don't start, Sherlock.” John cuts in before Sherlock can reply with his usual childish comments about Mycroft's weight or how he likes cake.

“So it was a rhetorical question, was it?” Sherlock asks innocently, looking over at John.

“When it concerns your brother and his happiness, let's say yes, all questions on the subject are rhetorical.”

The doorbell rings and again, anything Sherlock might respond with is interrupted.

“I'll get that, boys.” Mrs Hudson says happily, heading out the room and down the stairs.

“Why are all my experiments hidden?”

“Because Greg's niece is pregnant and the last thing we want is for her to get some sort of chemical burn or disease.”

“Please, John, my experiments can't cause diseases.” Sherlock scoffs at his husband.

“Shut up and be nice.”

Sherlock huffs and heads for the bedroom to (not) sulk to himself.

“Where are you going?” John asks as his husband walks past.

“Bedroom, John. _Obviously_.”

John sighs and rolls his eyes, putting away the final experiment and quickly sweeping the room to check for any other harmful substances.

John hears Mrs Hudson's approach and turns to see her accompanied my a young girl of about sixteen.

“Who's this then?” John asks with a grin.

“I'm Alejandria, but please just call me Ria.” Ria introduces with a cheeky smile.

“Hold on, I recognise that cheeky smile, you're definitely a Lestrade.” John continues to grin, holding out a hand for the girl to shake.

Ria giggles before replying, “I'm assuming Uncle G told you we were coming? I thought it was supposed to a surprise.”

She gives her Uncle a disapproving look but Greg just shrugs his shoulders, “Wasn't me.”

“No, actually it was Mycroft who told us you were coming. Sherlock likes to experiment with chemicals and obviously Mycroft didn't want to risk anything.”

“Speaking of my dear brother, where is he?” Mycroft asks, surveying the room carefully for any experiments left out.

“In the bedroom _not_ sulking.” John grins at Greg, seeing his friend's matching expression.

“I'm _not_ sulking.” Sherlock's voice cuts in as the Consulting Detective appears from the kitchen.

“Exactly what I said, love.” John smiles sweetly at his husband.

“Wow, you two are as bad as Uncle G and Uncle My.” Ria grins at the pair.

“Please, don't compare our relationship to that of Mycroft's.” Sherlock replies, glaring at his brother.

John slaps his husband's arm and shoots him with a glare.

“Ignore him, Ria. He's in a mood because we've put his experiments away.”

 _“Important_ experiments, John.” Sherlock snaps, glaring more fiercely at his husband.

“Ignore him, Alejandria. He's always like this.” Mycroft warns, putting a protective arm around the girl's shoulders.

“It's fine. I had to put up with this from mum and dad. This is actually mellow in comparison to them.” Ria reassures with a soft smile, welcoming the protective gesture all the same.

“Ria, why don't me and Uncle Greg introduce you to Ariana.” John replies, giving his husband a warning look that clearly says 'behave'.

“Sure, come on, Uncle G.”

John smiles before leading the pair to the bedroom and leaving Mycroft to manage his moody little brother.

John opens the door to Ariana's bedroom and sees the little girl sat in the middle of the room playing with her dolls.

“Wow, Uncle John, she's so beautiful. And look at those big blue eyes.” Ria smiles, looking down at the little girl.

“Hi.” Ariana smiles back, waving at the new-comers.

“Hi, so how old are you then?” Ria asks, carefully and awkwardly sitting down on the floor.

“I'm three soon.” Ariana smiles brightly, counting it on her fingers.

“Wow, you're very clever for a three year old, I bet Daddy and Papa are proud of you.”

“Daddy always says I'm so clever too. Do you want to play with me?”

“Sure. I love dolls too.” Ria grins, picking up a doll and getting comfy.

“Well, I guess I'll leave you here for a bit then, Ria. We'll be downstairs if you need anything, love.”

“Sure, Uncle G. See ya in a bit, guys.”

John chuckles and closes the door slightly, leaving the two girls to play for a bit.

“Well, I think you've got yourself a babysitter, John.” Greg laughs, patting the ex-army doctor on the shoulder, “She's always been good with kids though.”

“Well, we'll be sure to give you a call next time we need someone to look after Ana.” John grinned, following Greg down the stairs.

Half way down the stairs they hear the brothers arguing and roll their eyes, both simultaneously deciding to wait in the safety of the hallway for the brothers to calm down, that is, until they hear an ear-piercing noise and the resulting silence, at that point both men run into the living room to discover what has happened.

They stop in the doorway and try to make sense of what's gone on, nobody daring to speak until it all becomes clear.

Sherlock looks towards John and that's when the ex-army doctor sees it; the bright red hand-print across the detective's cheek that means that Mycroft finally cracked and gave his younger brother a slap hard enough to make tears well in the detective's eyes.

Greg sees it too and turns to look at his partner, who is literally shaking with anger and Greg suddenly can't breath, the room is too hot and he thinks he might just pass out.

Then suddenly, Mycroft turns to look at Greg and his face drops, like he's only just realised that he slapped his younger brother, like it was completely out of his control and all Greg can do is watch as his partner slowly struggles to come back to himself.

John notices too but he's still too stunned and angry to say anything but a muttered “Leave, Mycroft.” before Greg his grabbing his partner's hand and pulling him towards the stairs, calling his niece and telling her it's time to go.

The front door closes quietly before the silence echoes in the hollow space left in Mycroft's wake and John, John just stands there so utterly bewildered that he can't even move.

Sherlock doesn't say anything, doesn't even cry at the fact he's just been slapped, he just very slowly moves over to his chair and sits down.

John looks over at Sherlock and finally finds his voice, “What happened?”

“I pushed him too hard. I didn't think he'd actually hit me so I just kept pushing.” Sherlock whispers, staring at the floor.

“Why?” John asks carefully, moving over to his husband's side.

“I … I don't know.” Sherlock replies softly, looking up at John.

The ex-army doctor nearly cries at how vulnerable and child-like his husband looks, before carefully leaning in and kissing the hand-print on Sherlock's cheek.

“Tell him I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean it, any of it. You have to.” Sherlock says quietly, looking up at his husband in utter desperation.

“I will, love. I promise.”

 

xxxxxxx

(Snippet from _An Unlikely Romance_ \- Sherlock and Mycroft's argument that led to the slap)

 

“I thought having a baby around might grow you up eventually. Apparently not.” Mycroft says, looking down his nose at his brother.

“I'm not the the child here, Mycroft.” Sherlock snaps, stepping forward to challenge his brother.

“Ha, still trying to score cheap points, brother mine.” Mycroft just barely manages not to growl back.

“Cheap points? You mean like you, parading Lestrade's niece around like a prize bull? If she wasn't pregnant with a child then you wouldn't care.” Sherlock growls, getting right into his brother's face.

“Enough!” Mycroft yells, raising his hand in warning.

“You wouldn't dare, Mycroft.” Sherlock sneers, grinning at his brother.

“After all, you wouldn't want Lestrade to see you lose your temper, he might see the real you.”

“Sherlock.” Mycroft growls, just barely containing his anger, which admittedly has been getting ever more harder to do with his little brother.

“How will you manage with a child, Mycroft? You can barely contain your anger around me. A child will be even more trouble to handle.” Sherlock scoffs, blatantly antagonising his brother.

“Yes, well, I've had plenty of practice with you, haven't I? I know my boiling point thanks to you, you insufferable child.”

“You'll lose control in no time with a child around all the time. And then Lestrade will see what the real Ice Man looks like. Do you think he'll stick around? Do you think he'll want to be stuck with you until death do you part?” Sherlock yells, his eyes practically gleaming in delight.

Unfortunately, Sherlock's delight is short-lived as an ear-piercing crack resounds in the room and the detective nearly falls back with the force of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you're writing what's supposed to be a really light fluff filled story that goes really angsty at the end and you're just sat there like "shit, how did that happen?" 
> 
> Sorry xxx
> 
> P.S as you can see I've posted the argument between Mycroft and Sherlock at the bottom but for the full story from Mystrade's view check out chapter 11 of An Unlikely Romance


	18. Too Late To Apologise?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John calls Mycroft and Greg to apologise for Sherlock's behaviour.  
> But will Sherlock surprise everyone and actually apologise himself?  
> And Sherlock has a surprise deduction for John.

John walks into the living room with Ana and looks over at his husband; who is just staring out of the window.

Obviously, Sherlock staring out of their window is nothing surprising but what is surprising, is that he doesn't even seem to be breathing. It's like he turned into a statue sometime between John falling asleep and John waking up.

“Sherlock, love, are you alright? You've been stood there all morning.” John asks carefully, treating Sherlock like a wounded animal.

There's the briefest acknowledgement in the form of Sherlock tilting his head slightly before looking back out the window.

John sighs softly, deciding to make Ana some dinner before trying to speak to his husband again.

He sits his daughter in her chair before rummaging through the cupboards for something to eat and the fresh tea bags.

As he turns around he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Sherlock stood next to Ana and very gently stroking her hair.

“Sweetheart, I called Greg earlier to apologise to Mycroft. But he's been called into work so I'm gonna call him later at home. I'll sort this out, okay?”

“I love you, John.” Sherlock whispers, still staring at their daughter.

“I love you too, Sherlock. You know that.” John smiles softly, turning round to boil the kettle.

“When are you ringing Lestrade?” Sherlock asks distractedly, looking up at John.

“He asked me to ring about two. So I'll make us dinner and then give him a call. Alright, love.”

“I'll have toast. And a coffee.” Sherlock replies, slumping down in the chair next to Ana.

John smiles to himself, glad that his husband is actually eating without being coerced and makes a start on dinner.

x..x

“Come on, sweetheart, Papa is too tired to play.” John tells his daughter as she tries to climb on her Papa's lap.

“It's alright, John. Come here, Ana.” Sherlock says with a smile, holding his hands out for his daughter.

“I'm gonna ring Greg. Don't blow anything up while I'm out of the room, please.” John grins at husband.

Sherlock smiles back at his husband before engaging in an animated story with his daughter and her dolls.

John steps into the hall and dials Greg's number, hoping he can speak to Mycroft this time.

“Hey Greg, how was the case?”

_“Quick and not to painful actually. Anyway, you wanted to talk to Mycroft, right?”_

“Yes, is he there?”.

_“Yeah, he is. I'll just go to the library and get him.”_

John hears Greg walking through the house and into another room, just as he's preparing himself to talk to Mycroft, Sherlock takes the phone from him and puts it to his ear.

_“John, what can I do for you?”_

“I'm sorry.” Sherlock says softly, furrowing his brow at John when he gives him an unusual look.

Sherlock spins on his heels, walks back into the living room and watching his daughter playing.

_“Sherlock? Gregory told me that John wanted to talk to me.”_

John follows Sherlock back into the room and picks his daughter up, sitting her on his hip.

“Yes, he was going to apologise on my behalf but I thought, given the circumstances, it was better to do it myself.” Sherlock replies, reaching out a hand to touch John's face gently.

The doctor smiles at the gesture, resting a hand on Sherlock's hip and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

_“I'm proud of you, dear brother.”_

“Don't mock me, brother mine.”

“ _I assure you I'm not, Sherlock. It was very mature of you to apologise to me. I am proud of you. Always, Sherlock.”_

“Yes, well. Now that I've apologised, can you tell your husband to get me some better cases?” Sherlock snaps awkwardly, glaring at the floor.

John nearly drops Ana in shock at the use of 'husband' about Greg. The last he'd heard Mycroft and Greg weren't married yet.

“I don't know what you mean, Sherlock. You know perfectly well that me and Gregory are not officially married.”

Sherlock grins at his brother's shock before replying, “Of course, dear brother. My mistake. Goodbye.”

He puts the phone down before Mycroft has a chance to reply and grins at John.

“What do you know?” John asks, quirking an eyebrow at his husband.

“Nothing, John. Not. A. Thing.” The younger man continues to grin.

“Spill it, Sherlock. You know something. I know because you never make mistakes. And you sure as hell don't admit to them either.”

“That's not true. I have made mistakes and I've owned up to them.” Sherlock replies, receiving a look from his husband before he rolls his eyes and gives in. “Fine. I might have deduced that Lestrade is going to ask Mycroft to marry him.”

“Really? Wow, good on Greg.” John smiles, sitting down in his chair.

“What? I thought he was your friend. He's about to marry that fat oaf and ...”

“Remember when you just made that apology. Don't make me call Mycroft back for you to apologise again.”

Sherlock doesn't respond other than a sigh and dramatic flop on the couch.

“You know you're secretly happy for them, Sher.”

“No.” Sherlock replies into the couch cushion.

“Yes, you are. You tried setting them up for months before they got together.” John grins at his husband.

“Only so my insufferable brother would stay out of my affairs.” Sherlock snaps, turning his head and glaring at John.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Comes Sherlock's muffled reply from the couch cushions again.

“God only knows why I love that man.” John giggles to himself.

“I heard that.”

This just causes John to laugh even more, pulling out some biscuits and pouring out a tea and a coffee.

“Idiot.” Sherlock replies, trying to prevent a smirk.

“Dickhead.” John throws back, sitting back down in his chair.

“John!” Sherlock hells, directing his attention to Ana.

“She's heard worse.” John smirks back at his husband, as they both erupt into laughter again.

“I love you, Sher.”

“I love you too, John. Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, I'm finishing this here. Possible on shots of Ariana growing up but I dunno yet xxxx


End file.
